Tick of the Clock
by Hopelessly-Human
Summary: There was no God. There was no hope. There was no cure. But she was here, she was alive. And for the briefest moment, that's all he needed.
1. Carl Grimes is a Survivor

**My first (and probably only) Rick/OC story, wow.**

 **This idea has been bouncing around in my thoughts for awhile as I love _The Walking Dead_ so much and I know that Rick deserves some much needed love. Granted, he has Michonne now but I want to explore the idea of someone who isn't Michonne and honestly, there aren't many Rick/OC stories on this website, which is heartbreaking because Rick is absolutely a magnificent character.**

 **Disclaimer: _The Walking Dead_ does not belong to me in any shape or form.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

I was able to eat an entire box of _Chips Ahoy_ chocolate chip cookies in one sitting – not the chewy kind, or the fudge filled ones but the original _Chips Ahoy_ cookies. As I ate the cookies, my head was always buried deep inside a textbook that described how one's organs gradually shut down when he or she contracts acquired immunodeficiency syndrome and how there is no known cure. The cookies were done, along with the chapter and I moved onto the next one, taking notes, absorbing details, and knowing that spending hours on one chapter will prove to be the best decision I have ever made.

But that was then, and this is now.

"Peyt," I heard Patricia call my name. I turned around from the vegetables that I was chopping up for tonight's dinner. I sighed as I stared at her putting on her work gloves, knowing what she was about to do. "Wanna' help me with the barn?"

I shook my head, turning back to the tomato I was currently chopping, and said, "We're not supposed to keep them alive."

"You know," oh God, I could feel a speech coming, "your mom and brother are in there. We're just waiting for a cure." I scoffed, not replying. "You've changed a whole lot since you came back from Columbia, since -"

"Since what?" I snarled, turning around to glare at the older blonde woman. She suddenly looked uncomfortable, knowing she had no right to bring up my past as it was none of her business.

"Peyt, I didn't mean -" Patricia softly started before being interrupted by my younger sister.

"What's going on here?" Beth asked.

"Nothing," I whispered, looking back at Patricia. I gave her a forgiving look and said, "It's alright, just a misunderstanding." I smiled softly at Beth, "Sweetie, why don't you and Jimmy help me prepare dinner?"

Beth playfully rolled her eyes and said, walking up to me, "Peyt, I'm not a 'sweetie'."

I let out a small chuckle and wrapped my arm around her, "I am a _decade_ older than you, Beth. You peed in my face when I was 11 and traumatized me till I was 13. You're _my_ sweetie."

The blonde teen groaned into my shoulder, and grumbled, "You always throw that back in my face! I was 11, Peyton, I couldn't control my bladder!"

I wholeheartedly laughed and tightened my hold on her, not quite believing that our father decided to shelter her. Beth Greene was practically an adult in my book and she deserved to know what was out there, what was _happening_ out there. She's 16; she's no longer daddy's little girl, if only our father could see the same.

"Dad!" Maggie's worried shout from outside echoed inside the large farm house. Beth and I glanced at each other before we heard our father get off his chair that he was lounging on in the living room and storming out the front door to the porch. Jimmy followed him, cradling a bat in his hands and the rest of us trailing behind.

I couldn't help but gasp at the scene I saw, a man in a sheriff's hat carrying a young boy, who – even from my distance of being almost ten yards – looked paler than a dying man. I could tell that it wasn't the man's blood that cloaked his own shirt but the boy's.

"Was he bit?" My father, who stood tall at a staggering six feet, asked as he watched the man approach us.

"Shot," the man yelled, his voice cracking, "by your man."

"Otis?" I heard Patricia exclaim but it seemed distant as I quickly ran past my father to the man and who seemed to be his son.

"He said, 'find Hershel and Peyton', is that you?!" The sheriff glanced at me as he saw me place my hand over his son's clammy forehead. I turned to look back at my father, looking for any reason to not help this boy but then heard the man plea, "Help him! Please help my boy!"

And I knew, at that instant, I knew I was going to do everything to save his child.

I nodded without a second thought and grabbed the man's wrist with my father in tow.

I rapidly said, "Get him inside! Daddy, I'm gonna' need your help with this." My father was by my side in an instant as I guided the sheriff into the spare bedroom on the first floor.

"Patricia, bring dad's kit, his full kit." I demanded, still making our way to the spare bedroom, walking past the dining hall. "Maggie?!"

"Yeah?" She responded, just as anxious.

"Grab painkillers, coagulates – everything!" The four of us walked into the spare bedroom and my father yanked off the cover and gestured the sheriff to place his son on the bed as I continued to list off my materials, "Clean towels, sheets, alcohol!"

"Pillowcase," I told my father, who quickly made haste to create a makeshift pad. I lifted the boy's shirt and grimaced at the size of the bullet wound, wondering if there was an exit hole but from the looks of it, it seemed like there wasn't.

"I-is he alive?" The sheriff shakily asked me.

I glanced at him and gave him the pad my father made, saying, "Fold it and put pressure on the wound." The man did as said and I couldn't help but feel my heart break as I wondered who in the hell deserved this – to watch their child get shot.

"Sweetheart," I heard my father call. I turned around and saw the stethoscope he was giving to me that was given to him by Patricia. I quickly took it from him and immediately placed the buds in my ear, crouching down close to the young brunette boy, searching for a heartbeat.

It took a few seconds but I let out a small sigh of relief and looked up at the sheriff, saying, "I've got a heartbeat but it's faint."

"I've got it," my dad suddenly cut in, placing a towel over the pillowcase that the sheriff was holding. "Step back sir, we're gonna' need some space."

I almost rolled my eyes at my dad's command and said, "Maggie, I need an IV over here!"

Maggie did as told and brought the fluid pouch with a tube already connected to it. I wiped a small section of dirt and blood away from the boy's elbow with a cleansing pad before I pierced the needle through his skin. I placed a small amount of gauze on top of the needle and wrapped surgical tape around it.

I motioned to Maggie to take over what I was doing before standing in front of the boy's father.

The man towered over my 5'4'' height as I placed both of my hands on his shoulders and said, "You need to listen to me." He looked dazed, anxious, and terrified. But his eyes, oh my god, his eyes were the most pure bluest eyes I've ever seen but they were filled with absolute fear. "What's your name, officer?"

His eyes eventually found mine, "R-Rick."

"Rick?"

"I'm-I'm-I'm Rick," he replied shakily, his blue eyes locked on mine.

"Okay, Rick," I softly said, "my name is Peyton Greene and we are going to do whatever it takes to save your son, understand?" Rick looked like he was about to cry when I said, "But you need to give us some room, okay?"

He looked hesitant but I squeezed his shoulders in a reassuring way and demanded, in the nicest way possible, "Please, just a few minutes."

Rick slowly nodded his head, gave one last look to his son, and backed out of the room. I clenched my eyes shut before rushing over to look at the unconscious boy.

"Think we can save him?" My father asked me.

I sighed, looking around at Maggie and Patricia who was helping the wounded child, "If I have the right materials, something tells me what we have right here won't be enough for him."

"Beth, sweetie," she looked when I called her name, "can you go boil some water? I'm going to need that soon." She nodded and walked out of the room, taking Jimmy with her.

"Peyt, you performed surgery down in Mexico your second year of residency, right?" Dad asked, still applying pressure to the wound. I took his place and slowly lifted the towel with the pillowcase, trying to locate the bullet only to come across bad news.

I nodded, "Appendices, tonsils, simple things – there's about six or seven fragments of the bullet in him, daddy. I have to operate on him if he's going to survive."

"Is he not?" Maggie asked.

I slowly shook my head and sighed, "The bullet didn't go through him, it broke up inside him. There were a lot of patients like him in New York but they were never children, they were never this… _fragile_. But if dad and I can get the fragments out of him, this little man will be just fine."

It wasn't long before Otis, Rick, and another man who's name I did not know walked into the room. The other man and Rick seemed close, as his arm was around Rick in a comforting way. He was about Rick's height with smoldering brown eyes that seemed to have just as much fear as Rick's eyes. He cared about Rick's son just as much as the sheriff did, that much was clear.

"Is he okay?" Rick immediately asked, his blue eyes once again penetrating mine.

I let my dad take over and he asked, "You know his blood type?"

"A-positive," Rick gulped, "same as mine."

"That's fortunate," my dad replied, promisingly. "Don't wander far, we're going to need you." My father stared at Otis, who was at the door, breathing heavily and asked him, "What happened?"

"I was tracking a buck," Otis mumbled, practically shaking, "Bullet went through it, went clean through."

I bit my lip as I cut in, looking up at the two men who was tremendously troubled about this boy and said, "The deer slowed the bullet down, which certainly saved his life, but it did not go through clean." I sighed, "It broke up into pieces. If I can get the bullet fragments out, and I counted six, your son will live."

"Lori doesn't know?" The brown eyed man asked Rick.

"No she -" Rick chocked up. "My wife doesn't know. My wife _doesn't know_."

* * *

I quickly managed to clean the wound with my fathers help and looked at the other two ladies in the room – Maggie and Patricia.

I sighed and looked at my father, "Pass me the forceps please."

"Sweetheart," my father started, knowing what I was going to do now, "are you sure?"

"We don't have time for any anesthetics," I sighed. "I have to at least try to remove _some_ of the bullet fragments. It can't be lodged in his body for this long; it can't. He won't _survive_ it."

"Peyton," Maggie started, "what're the chances of him truly surviving?"

I bit my lip anxiously, and shared a look with my dad, "If I don't have the right equipment, low…very, very low." I ran a hand through my unruly brunette hair and reached over to grab a pair of disposable gloves and passing the box to my father, watching him grab two.

I gulped before lifting the towel off the boy's wound and immediately, the child groaned in pain. I looked up in panic at my dad, who was equally concerned. Now we knew that this procedure was going to be a hell of a lot harder with the boy _conscious_.

"Patricia," I glanced at her. "You're going to have to hold him down." She nodded and hastily did as told. "Dad, I need you to hold the spreader."

My aging father crouched down beside me and grabbed the spreader from his kit. He hesitated before using the spreader on the child and the little boy cried out in pain, breaking my heart even further.

I whispered, running a hand through his dark hair, "I know it hurts, sweetheart, just a few more minutes. You'll be okay."

I looked up at my younger, taller sister and said, "Maggie, call Rick in; we're going to need some blood."

She nodded and did as told, as I quickly went to work to remove a single bullet fragment from the boy. The faster I got this done, the better. The boy was crying and groaning in pain when Rick and his partner came into the room.

"You -" my dad pointed at the man beside Rick, "hold him down!" The man did as told, taking Patricia's place of holding the child down and Rick was quickly taken by Patricia to get his blood taken.

I got a hold of the bullet that was deep within the boy's stomach and worked to remove it, knowing how the pain must've been unbearable to him. "Dad!" The little boy exclaimed in agony.

"Almost there, sweetie," I tried to pacify him but grimaced when he let out an ear shattering scream, followed by him sobbing and holding onto the other man's shirt.

"STOP!" Rick yelled from his place by Patricia. "You're killing him!"

"I'm saving him!" I screamed back.

"He needs blood!" Patricia cried.

"Do it now!" The man holding the boy down yelled. Then, I faintly heard Rick grunt in pain because Patricia pierced the needle through Rick's skin. The small brunette boy was still groaning and crying in agony when suddenly it stopped.

I quickly glanced up to see that the child knocked out and I heard Rick's partner slightly slap the boy, saying, "Wait – wait, hey."

"He just passed out," my father answered the man's unasked question.

I let a breath of relief out when I slowly yanked the bullet fragment out of the boy's stomach and said, "One down," I dropped the shrapnel into a little bowl that Patricia provided for me, "five to go."

I looked around the room to see the nervous faces of Rick and his partner.

I sighed and looked at Rick, saying, "Have a seat, Rick. I'm going to need a lot of your blood." He slowly nodded and sat down on the chair that Patricia offered. I placed a hand over my father's and asked, "Take his blood pressure, please?" My father nodded and did as told without question, and I started to properly gauze the boy's bullet wound.

Dad started to pump air into the blood pressure meter and seconds later said, "Pressure's stable."

I nodded and was about to start talking when Rick unintentionally cut me off, "Lori needs to be here." Presumably, he was talking about his wife. "She doesn't even know what's going on. I gotta' – I gotta' go find her, bring her back."

"You can't do that," dad stated.

"She's his mother!" Rick snapped. "She needs to know what's happened; her son's lying here, _shot_."

"And he's going to need more blood," my father said. He then looked over at Rick's friend, who was leaning against the dresser and said, "He can't go more than 50 feet from this bed."

Patricia gently freed Rick from the needle that was taking his blood and he stood up in a wobbly manner but refused help from his friend. They both walked out of the room with heavy shoulders, not knowing what to do but I had an idea.

"Dad," I started, catching his attention. "If I could just go and take Nellie, and bring back the boy's mother -"

"No, out of the question." He cut me off. "I need you here."

"Daddy, I _know_ you can do this without me." He looked apprehensive. "I will be gone for at most an hour. The little boy needs his mom." Dad still looked like he was going to disagree. "What if I was lying here? And you were miles away, not knowing what happened to me?"

He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face, "I knew you were going to say that."

I slightly smirked, even through this tense situation, "I _am_ my mother's daughter." I sighed, getting up from my crouching position and my arms covered in the boy's blood.

"Ask Maggie to go," my father said. "I do need you here and she knows the woods as good as Otis." I nodded, about to leave through the door to tell the worried men and Maggie the news.

I opened the door to see Rick's friend stand up away from Rick and I could only assume that he was comforting the terrified father. Rick and Shane stood next to me, looking at me impatiently for details.

I pushed a stray hair away from my face before saying, "He's out of danger for the moment, but I need to remove those remaining fragments."

"How?" Rick asked, looking entirely defeated and pale from the amount of blood that was taken from him. "You saw how he was."

"I know," I mumbled, picking my fingernail out of tension, "and that was the shallowest one. I need to go in deeper to get the others."

"Oh, man," Shane commented, just as distressed.

I looked at the ground, whispered, "Um, there's more."

"Tell me," Rick assertively stated.

I sighed, before answering, "His belly's distended, his pressure's dropping, which means there's internal bleeding. A fragment must've nicked one of his blood vessels." Rick closed his eyes and gulped.

I continued, "My dad and I have to open him, find the ripped vessel, and stitch it back up. But he cannot move while we're in there, I mean – _at all_." I took a deep breath before I proceeded, "If he reacted the same way as before, I can't promise that I won't sever an artery and then, he'll be dead in minutes."

Rick stayed silent but he was somehow paler than he was before.

I shared a look with Maggie and Otis before saying, "If we wanted to even try this, I'd have to put him under. But if I do, he won't be able to breathe on his own; it'd be the same bad results."

Rick let out a shaky breath and asked, "What'll take?"

"You need a respirator," Otis cut in before I had a chance to say anything. "What else?" Otis asked me.

I gave him a soft smile, knowing how guilty he must've felt, "The tube that goes with it, extra surgical supplies, drapes, suture's -"

Rick interrupted me, looking down at me, "If you had all that, you could save him?"

I bit the inside of my cheek and slowly nodded, "If I had all that, your son has a large chance of surviving this."

"Nearest hospital went up in flames a month ago," Otis stated, until he realized, "the high school."

I nodded, "That's what dad thought of." I looked at Rick, who hadn't stopped looking at me since I said I could save his son. "They set up a FEMA shelter there. They would have everything that my dad and I would need."

"Place was overrun last time I saw it; you couldn't get near it." Otis grumbled, but then said, optimistically, "Maybe it's better now."

Rick's friend humorlessly grinned and said, "I said, leave the rest to me. Is it too late to take that back?"

"I hate you goin' alone." The blue eyed sheriff whispered, guilt-stricken.

The brave man shook his and looked over at me, "Doc, why don't you do me a list? Draw me a map?"

"You won't need a map," Otis cut in. I felt an arm around my shoulder and looked up to see my father, who's arm was wrapped around me and Patricia, who looked at her husband in worry. "I'll take you there," Otis stated. "Ain't but five miles,"

"Otis, _no_ ," his wife demanded.

"Honey, we don't have time for guesswork and I'm _responsible_." Otis said, completely ridden with guilt. "I ain't gonna sit here while this fella takes this on alone." Otis and Patricia shared a look with Otis finalizing his commitment, "I'll be alright."

"Are you sure about this?" Rick's friend asked, concerned.

"Do you even know what any of the stuff he's talking about look's like?" Otis questioned the man.

The man tilted his head, "Come to think, no."

"I've been a volunteer E.M.T. I do." Otis replied. "We could talk about this till next Sunday or we can do it real quick."

"I'll take right quick," the man answered.

"I should thank you," Rick stated, looking up at Otis with gratitude.

Otis sighed, "Wait till that boy of yours is up and round, then we'll talk. I'll go gather some things."

"Where is she?" I asked Rick, "your wife?" He looked stunned at the question and I gave him a reassuring smile, then squeezed his upper shoulder saying, "Maggie knows these woods just as good as any hunter. She can find Lori."

"She's right," Maggie assured, "if you can tell me where they are, I can find her."

And just like that, there seemed to be hope for the little boy after all.

* * *

I sat on the chair that Rick once occupied and held onto Carl's hand as the others bid Otis and Shane a farewell, not knowing if they were coming back. I stroked the sleeping boy's hair, making sure he was getting the fluid's and blood that he needed. I periodically checked his blood pressure, which was stable at times but then dropped and I knew I couldn't do anything about that without performing surgery.

A familiar voice made me jump, "I can't thank you enough for what you're doing."

I looked up to see Rick standing at the doorway before he gradually made his way over to crouch down next to me to stroke his boy's leg. I offered him my chair but he just shook his head and stayed where he was.

I let out a dry chuckle and said, "I didn't even get his name. What is it?" I asked, looking down at Rick.

He slightly grinned down at the boy and whispered, "Carl, his name is Carl."

I gaped, and said, "Which grandfather did you name the poor child after?"

His eyes widened when I asked the question but I saw the mirth swimming around his blue eyes and he smiled when he said, "Lori's, it was Lori's father's name."

I quirked my lips and brushed some hair away from Carl's face before saying, "He looks more like a Dylan."

Rick let out a breath of a chuckle and said, "I'll run that past my wife." I smiled down at him and continued to sit with him in silence yet I couldn't help but think that his wife should've been sitting where I was.

The sheriff interrupted the silence by asking, "How long have you been a doctor? If you don't mind me saying, you look a little young to be a doctor."

"I don't mind," I replied. "I'm actually not a certified doctor. I've got my Masters and Medical degree, and almost got my PhD. I came down here for the summer and was about to start my fourth year of residency at Columbia Medical before…" I waved my arm around, silently telling him before the end of the world happened. "But I've got a good amount of experience under my belt."

He nodded and said, "Once again, I can't thank you enough -"

"Stop," I interjected. "He's a child. He doesn't deserve to die and he's not going to; I'll make sure of it."

"You don't even know us."

"I don't need to." I placed a hand over his shoulder and said, "No doctor ever needs to know their patients. They just know they have to save them." I saw him visibly gulp and nod, letting out a shaky breath.

"What about your name?" He suddenly asked, as I removed my hand from his shoulder.

"What're you talking about?" I wondered.

"Which parent decided to name you after a grandfather?"

My jaw slightly dropped and feigned offense, "Hey, my name is a unisex name." Rick raised an eyebrow in my direction and I let out a slight pout, "My parents thought I was a boy but when I – a _female_ – popped out they decided to keep the name."

Rick stared at me before letting out a wholehearted smile, with a light chuckle coming from him and I couldn't help but smile back at him.

Eventually, Rick went down to talk to my father and wait for his wife, Lori while Patricia waited for the return of Otis and, I found out his name, Shane. We were all playing the waiting game wondering how all of this would turn out.

I was preparing a slight meal for Rick as he gave another blood transfusion for his son through the help of Patricia and my father. I knew he'd need his blood count higher and he'd be completely weak as he looked like he hasn't had a decent meal in weeks. I heard slow footsteps making their way into the dining room where I was, followed by quicker, more familiar footsteps that I knew were my fathers.

I looked up to see Lori – a tall, slim brunette with the most defined facial structure I've ever seen – holding onto a much weaker Rick and I softly handed him a glass of orange juice. He thanked me before he shakily started to drink the juice. My dad stood next to me and gestured Rick to take a seat, which he did.

"Okay," Lori started, "so I understand, when Shane gets back with this other man -"

"Otis," my dad added.

"Otis," Lori seethed, "the idiot who shot my son."

I bit my tongue from saying anything sharp, knowing she was grieving, so instead I said, "Ma'am, it was an accident."

She nodded, barely giving me a glance, "'ll take that under advisement later. For now, he's the idiot who shot our son."

"Lori," Rick warned, "they're doing everything they can to make it right."

"Okay," she mumbled. "As soon as they get back, you can perform this surgery?" She asked my father.

Dad said, placing a hand on my shoulder, "My daughter will and I'll help her through it."

Lori looked confused and asked me, "You seem a little young to be a doctor?"

"I was about to start my fourth year of residency in Columbia Medical before the world decided to end." I stated.

"So, you've done this procedure before?" She asked, skeptically.

I sighed, nodding, "Once, in Mexico – I was in Mexico my second year of being a resident; it was part of this program I was in. But anyways, he was a gang member, got shot through the thigh, completely shattered his bones and given what I had, he survived. He's going to have a limp for the rest of his life, but he survived."

Rick and Lori both sighed in relief, then Lori asked my dad, "And what about you?"

"I'm a vet." My dad answered.

"A veteran – a combat vet?" She asked, hopeful to have two experienced doctors taking care of her son.

"A veterinarian,"

"And you two can save my son?"

My father and I shared a look before he said, "We will do our absolute best."

Eventually, I shared that we should check Carl's blood pressure again as it was getting rather dark and Shane and Otis still weren't here, much to everyone's chagrin.

I shook my head as I took Carl's blood pressure, and informed the worried parents of the bad news, "Pressure's dropping again. We can't wait much longer." My father took out the needle that was feeding Carl his father's blood and placed a band aid over the vein.

"Take some more -" Rick started, shoving his arm to my dad, "Whatever he needs, then I'm gonna' go."

"Go where?" My dad asked.

"He said five miles," Rick was practically a shaky mess. He could barely stand straight. "They should be back by now. Something's gone wrong."

"Are you insane?!" Lori snapped. "You're not going after them."

"Rick," my dad cut in, "listen to your wife."

Rick wouldn't hear it, "If they got into trouble -"

I interjected, "You're in no condition to do _anything_ about it. You've given too much blood. You're barely on your feet. You wouldn't make it five steps past the front yard."

He started to shake his head, "Something happened. I have to go."

"No!" Lori yelled, adamantly. "Your place is here. If Shane said he'll be back, he'll be back. He's like you that way."

"I can't just sit here," he whispered, defeated.

"That's exactly what you do!" Lori exclaimed. "If you need to pray or cry or tell God he's cruel, you go right ahead, but you're not leavin', Rick. Carl needs you – here." She then whispered, "And I can't do this by myself. Not this one. I can't…I can't."

* * *

"I don't know if I can do this, dad." I softly cried into his shoulder. His arms were tight around me, hugging me to his slightly chubby chest. Old age did him good, he was the most active elderly man I knew. He was the most powerful man I knew and I had the privilege of him being my father.

He whispered, as he stroked my hair, "Peyton Greene, you are the strongest woman in the world. I know absolutely no one who has the power to come over what you did. And you will save that boy, do you understand me?"

I sniffled against his chest and nodded, whispering, "Okay." I nodded, "I'll save him."

* * *

 **And that's the first chapter of _Tick of the Clock._**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed it! Expect another chapter soon! Oh and if you like Teen Wolf, be sure to check out my Derek Hale/OC story!**

 **Anyways, you guys are always amazing, see you soon!**


	2. Someone Important

**New chapter! Hope you guys enjoy it!**

 **I've decided I'm going to add the song I listened to as I wrote this chapter because well, why not? It adds to the chapter and to the story overall. Also, it gives you something to listen to!**

* * *

 _ **"If I don't say this now**_  
 _ **I will surely break**_  
 _ **As I'm leaving the one**_  
 _ **I want to take**_  
 _ **Forgive the urgency but**_  
 _ **Hurry up and wait**_  
 _ **My heart has started to separate**_

 _ **Oooh, Oooh,**_  
 _ **Be my baby**_  
 _ **Oooooh.**_  
 _ **Oooh, Oooh,**_  
 _ **Be my baby**_  
 _ **I'll look after you**_

 _ **There now, steady love,**_  
 _ **So few come and don't go**_  
 _ **Will you want to,**_  
 _ **Be the one I always know**_  
 _ **When I'm losing my control,**_  
 _ **The city spins around**_  
 _ **You're the only one**_  
 _ **Who knows, you slow it down." -**_ **I'll Look After You by The Fray**

* * *

There were two newcomers from Rick's group that Maggie brought in – T-Dog and Glenn. Well, T-Dog's name was actually Theodore Douglas but the man went by T-Dog. Glenn was an adorable Asian man, who seemed to have eyes for Maggie while T-Dog was a large African American man suffering from a severe infection on his arm.

When they walked in, I immediately took care of his arm, then left Patricia to take care of the stitching and made sure Maggie gave them something to eat before I went back to check on Carl.

I walked into the bedroom to only see my dad, wondering where Rick and Lori went. He answered my unasked question, "They went outside to have a chat."

"How is he?" I wondered, placing my palm on Carl's pale forehead, feeling his fever peak. My dad lowered the blanket that covered his stomach and I couldn't help but flinch at the sight. Carl's poor belly was swollen something big and looked a sickly yellow color, clearly infected from the inside out.

I sighed, sitting next to my father on Carl's left side, "Think we're going to have operate without the respirator?"

"It's a possibility," my dad nodded. "A highly likely one right about now."

"He won't live without the respirator," I shook my head. "He's too weak; he's too _young_."

"It's the only chance we have, sweetheart."

"There's barely even a chance to begin with," I whispered, trying to remain optimistic but failing.

He was barely twelve, there was no way we could perform this surgery successfully without a respirator; he wouldn't be able to breathe on his own.

I gently started stroking Carl's hair, then softly said, "You know, Heath and I, we used to fight about what color eyes he'd have – whether it was green or brown." I sniffled once, before meeting my father's warming gaze. "I wish we had the chance to find out."

"Peyton," he had a scolding voice, "stop telling people your eyes are green. They are _hazel_." I couldn't help but let out a soft snort, knowing how right he really was. But if the sun shined just right, you can see little specks of green, well, at least that was what Heath used to tell me.

Dad's hand came out and captured my hand, not the one I was using to stroke Carl's hair.

He held my hand and said, "You can still find out."

I shook my head, "No," I mumbled, dejectedly, "not in this world, never in this world."

"There will be a cure one day, Peyton." My old man said, with so much hope and fierce determination that I almost believed him.

"I hope we're alive to see the day," I quietly said. "I hope Carl's alive to see the day."

Almost instantly, Carl started to let out little coughs which caused my dad and I to stand up in shock. Lori and Rick came barreling in through the door when Carl's coughing became a little more harsher.

He was awake, oh, my God, he was _awake_.

Lori immediately crouched down beside her trembling son and started to stroke his head as the little boy whispered, frighteningly, "Where are we?" His eyes glanced over to me and my father.

"Hey, little man," Rick soothingly said, leaning over him. Then, he gestured to us, "That's Hershel and Peyton, we're in their house. Y-you had an accident, alright?"

"It hurts," Carl chocked out, "a lot."

"Oh baby, I know," Lori gently said, holding his hand. "I know."

Carl almost instantly calmed down as he stared at his mother, "You should've seen it."

"What?" She wondered, puzzled.

"The deer," Carl smiled, "It was so pretty, mom." He closed his eyes at the memory and then reopened them to say, "It was so close. I've never been…" he trailed off, before knocking back into an unconscious state with his eyes open. Oh, no.

"Carl?" Rick asked, worriedly, looking up at me to meet my eyes before looking down at his son again.

"What's happening?" Lori wondered before Carl started seizing.

Rick and Lori immediately went to grab at him before I yelled, "Don't! It's a seizure." I turned the boy on his side and said, "If you hold him down, you could hurt him."

Lori asked, horrified, "You can't stop it?"

I shook my head, "He just has to go through it."

Lori sobbed against Rick's chest, the couple staring in utmost terror at their son who was shaking violently against the bed.

After several excruciating painful seconds, Carl stopped seizing and turned on his back. My father immediately went to check his pulse as I slightly opened Carl's eyelids to see his eyes completely drained.

My father sighed, "His brain isn't getting enough blood. His pressure's bottoming." He looked up at Rick, "He need's another transfusion."

"Okay," Rick whispered, "I'm ready."

I gulped, "If we take anymore out of you, your body could shut down. You could go into a coma." I sighed, "You could go into cardiac arrest." Rick was about to protest before I put my hand up to stop him and looked at my father, "I'm O-negative, you can take it from me."

"Peyton -" I cut off Rick.

"Just until," I started, "you get your strength back."

I looked at Rick and Lori for confirmation and Lori nodded her head in gratitude, as Rick whispered, "Thank you for everything."

I softly smiled at him before looking at my dad who was already ready with a new needle and a blood pouch with a needle on the other end to connect it with Carl's vein. My father cleansed my elbow before finding a vein and poking through, as we all watched the blood flow from me to Carl.

"You'll be okay to do the surgery?" I heard Lori ask.

I turned to look at her and nodded, "It's only one transfusion. I'll be fine within the half hour." I turned to look at her husband and sternly said, "You need to sit down and get your strength back up, you're barely on your feet."

Rick ran a hand over his face and nodded, sitting down in the chair beside Carl and accepting the milk that Lori offered him. Huh, that reminded me, we needed more milk, especially if Carl survives this, _when_ Carl survives this.

I hoped Rick's entire group would find themselves situated here. The field's go on for miles and we have enough supplies to go around. They'd be safe and that's all I want for them.

* * *

About a half hour later, my father and I came back to check on Carl, after giving Lori and Rick the space they needed. Dad and I knew that it was almost time to do the surgery or Carl would pass away before we even attempted to save him.

I was checking his blood pressure as my dad spoke to the couple, "He's still losing blood faster than we can replace it and with the swelling in his abdomen, we can't wait any longer or he's just going to slip away." I cringed at my fathers words, knowing he was right. "Now I need to know _right now_ if you want us to do this, because I think your boy is out of time."

"You have to make a choice," I whispered solemnly, staring at the frightened couple with my arms crossed over my chest.

"A choice?" Lori croaked.

"A choice," Rick cut in, then leaned in toward Lori, practically resting his head on hers. "You have to tell me what it is." He whispered, " _You_ have to tell me what it is."

Lori slowly nodded, placing a hand on Rick's cheek lovingly before turning to look at my dad and I, "We do it."

I nodded, sharing a look with my father, "Okay, okay, I'm going to tell Patricia to get the operating table." We never actually used the table for a person before, this would be the first time.

My father quickly went to grab the rest of his materials as I went to go find Patricia. She dug up the operating table from dad's office before we both hauled it into the bedroom where Carl was.

Patricia and I placed the table in front of the bed as my father said, "Okay, get the corners of the bed; let's get the sheet down." We did as told. "Get the IV bag on the sheet," my dad told Rick and he did just that.

"Okay," I sighed, watching as we all grabbed a corner of the bed sheet that Carl was lying on, "on three. One, two, three," in a joint effort we gently lifted Carl off the bed, with the bed sheet and slowly placed him on the operating table.

Patricia came back with the rest of my dad's equipment, completely sterilized, a bowl full of hot water, and a lamp without the shade for as much light as we can get. My dad and I wore our disposable gloves before I grabbed a scalpel, then looked up at the horrified couple.

"I'd suggest that you two step out," the moment I said that, we heard a truck approaching. Rick and I quickly made it to the window to see Shane driving the truck up to the front of the road.

We all hastily left the bedroom, with Patricia staying behind as per my father's request and met Shane outside. Everyone, sans Patricia, came out as Glenn and I ran ahead to grab the bags off of Shane.

"Carl?" The tired man rasped out, looking at Rick, Lori, and I for answers.

"There's still a chance," Rick replied, grateful to have his friend back in one piece.

But wait…no. It couldn't be. "Otis?" I wondered, trying to remain hopeful but his absence was enough answer for me.

Shane was absolutely guilt-stricken as he looked down at me, then at my dad, and slowly shook his head, whispering, "No."

My breath hitched as I grabbed my fathers hand, feeling a lump in my throat. Otis was the sweetest man we have ever known, I've known him since I was just a baby, he saw me take my first steps with my dad, he took Shawn and I hunting, and now, he was gone?

"We say nothing to Patricia," I whispered, feeling a tear escape my eye. I looked up, catching Rick's pale blue eyes, "Not till after; we need her." I said what I had to say before I gestured Glenn to follow my father and I inside into Carl's room.

And just like that, this little boy had a chance of surviving again.

* * *

I smiled, despite the information we had just learned from Shane a few short hours ago but staring at Carl, who was properly stitched up after a successful surgery, I couldn't help but be the slightest bit happy.

"We did it," I croaked, letting out a small sob as I stroked the little child's hair once more.

I looked up at Patricia and my father, who seemed to be sharing my joy because they released small smiles of their own. We placed Carl back on the bed that now had clean sheets thanks to Patricia. I took off my plastic gloves and grabbed a hot towel to wipe my hands down.

"I'm gonna' go tell the couple the good news," I said, then looked over at Patricia and felt my heart drop as I realized she still didn't know her husband didn't come back. I looked at my father and he just nodded his head, knowing he'd wait till I came back to tell her the news.

I walked out onto the front porch, with the rest of Rick's group in tow and saw that Rick and Lori were holding each other on the front steps of the porch. Shane was sitting on the ground, against Otis' truck.

They quickly turned around when they heard me walk out onto the porch and I couldn't help but smile at them as I said, "He's stabilized."

Rick bent down, heaving out a large breath while trembling out the words, "Oh, God."

He suddenly looked up at me like I saved his entire world and I might have the audacity to say, that I think I might've done just that.

Then, catching me by surprise he wrapped his lean yet strong arms around my shoulders, giving me a warm hug. I hugged him back, slightly patting his back a couple of times, silently telling him I would've done anything for that little boy, telling him I would've done anything for any of them.

And after the longest time, after the longest six months of my life, with this one hug, I felt safe. He made me feel safe.

I released him, refusing to catch his eye, and looked down at Lori, who was choking back sobs as she said, "I don't have words."

I warmly smiled down at her and then looked at Shane, who was now standing, listening to the conversation. "If you didn't bring back those supplies, Carl might've not had a chance. Thank you."

He looked down at the ground before looking back up, and nodding once in my direction, saying, "At your service, ma'am."

I sighed, "There's one more problem." Everyone looked at me expectantly but then looked solemn when I said, "I don't know how to tell Patricia about Otis."

It was quiet for a few moments as everyone looked at each other, trying to find a solution.

Rick spoke up, looking at Lori, "You stay with Carl, I'll go with Peyton." Lori nodded and Rick gestured to me to lead the way.

When we walked back into the house, Patricia and my father were already in the kitchen, drinking water it seemed like. She would need a lot of that soon. Rick and I looked at each other before we walked into the kitchen catching the attention of Patricia and my father.

"I can't thank y'all enough for helping my son." Rick started off, as Patricia gave him a soft smile. "But there's something that went wrong when Shane and Otis went to get the supplies."

"Patricia," my father placed a hand on her shoulder, though tears were already rushing down her cheeks. "Otis didn't make it." She suddenly broke down into sobs and almost collapsed to the ground if it wasn't for Rick's quick hands to situate her on a chair from the kitchen table.

I started to prepare tea for the woman as I heard her gut wrenching sobs while Rick told her that Otis died for his son and he would always be in her debt.

Sacrifices in this world aren't supposed to happen but Otis – a man who always put others before him – gave me hope that this world isn't as doomed as we all think it might be.

* * *

I woke up the next morning, the sun bright as can be but the brightness of the sun wasn't what woke me, it was the small knocks on my door. My door opened to reveal Maggie giving me a small smile.

She came over and sat down on the end of my bed, as I wrapped my hand around hers. I mumbled, still groggy from just waking up, "How long have I been asleep?"

"Everyone's awake," she replied, playing with my fingers.

I jolted to a sitting position, alarmed that I slept this long. "Maggie! Why didn't you wake me?"

"Dad said you needed your rest," she calmed me, by placing a hand on my shoulder, "you were the last one to sleep last night. You needed sleep."

"Carl?" I asked, anxiously.

"He's fine," Maggie smiled at me. "Dad said he woke up for a few minutes, only to fall asleep again but he's fine – stable. Dad said it was mostly you; I've never seen anyone more thankful than Rick and Lori."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, "I was just doing my job."

"The others from Rick's group," she started, "they're here now too. They're downstairs." She released a shaky breath, "We're prepping for Otis' funeral."

I inhaled sharply, scolding myself for even remotely forgetting that a man who was practically a part of our family was gone. I leaned over my covers and gave Maggie the tightest hug I could summon, knowing she was hurting because of the people we've lost. Our step-mother, our step-brother, and now Otis? It didn't seem fair.

She wasn't the only one hurting; we all were.

Maggie held onto me just as tight before pulling away and asking, "How are you?"

I, once again, sighed, holding onto both of my younger sister's hands, "I'm fine, Maggie. I've been fine since yesterday, since last week, since three months ago. I'm _fine_."

She shook her head, and said in a chastising manner, "After what you've been through? No one would ever be just fine, Peyton."

I gave her a weak smile, "Maggie, I'm with my family. I _am_ fine."

Maggie was about to say something when there was another knock on the door. We looked up to see Beth.

The young blonde quietly said, "We're going to start soon." Maggie and I looked at each other before I nodded at Beth and crawled out of bed. I grabbed a gray tank top and a pair of skinny jeans before exiting the room to go to the bathroom, ready to face whatever the day has to give.

I finally came downstairs and I walked out of the house with Patricia under mine and Maggie's arms. The little difference we had yesterday morning seems absolutely pointless now. She hadn't stopped crying since she found out and it broke my heart that she lost the one person in the world she loved the most.

When we got to the makeshift grave that was created in memory of Otis, we saw Beth place a rock on the large pile of rocks that was increasing because we all placed a rock on top of the pile in memory of Otis.

"Blessed be God, father of our lord, Jesus Christ." Dad started. He wore a lovely blazer especially for this sad occasion and he held the Bible in his hands. "Praise be to him for the gift of our brother Otis, for his span of years, for his abundance of character; Otis, who gave his life to save a child's, now more than ever, our most precious asset. We thank you, God, for the peace he enjoys in your embrace. He died as he lived, in Grace."

We all remained silent for a moment before my father spoke up, "Shane, will you speak for Otis?"

The man in question cleared his throat and softly shook his head, "I'm not good at it. I'm sorry." He was wearing a pair of Otis' overalls, along with one of his plaid shirts. I checked on his swollen ankle last night, it didn't seem to be more than a sprain.

What got me confused was why he shaved off all his hair last night? I guess I wouldn't know.

Patricia suddenly spoke up, through her tearful voice, "You were the last one with him. You shared his final moments. Please. I need to hear; I need to know his death had meaning." She sobbed.

Shane looked at her guilty, and nodded, "We were about done. Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limping. It was bad, ankle all swollen up. 'We've got to save the boy.' See, that's what he said." Shane swallowed hard before he continued, "He gave me his backpack. He shoved me ahead. 'Run,' he said. He said, 'I'll take the rear. I'll cover you.' And when I looked back…"

Shane gravely shook his head.

He started limping his way over to the wheelbarrow that carried all the rocks, "If not for Otis, I'd have never made it out alive." He picked up a rock. "And that goes for Carl too. It was Otis. He saved us both." He placed the rock down on the large lump of rocks before turning to look at Patricia, "If any death ever had meaning, it was his."

* * *

After the simple, short funeral my family and I found out that there was a young girl missing from the group – Sophia. Her mother, Carol, was worried sick about her and they've been searching for days. I decided to bring the men and Andrea – a lovely blonde woman – a map of the county to help them with their search.

I placed the map on top of my father's yellow truck and said, "This is a county survey map; it shows terrains and elevations."

Rick stood next to me, holding down the map and said, "This is perfect, we can finally get this thing organized." He looked up at everyone around him, my dad, Shane, Andrea, and Daryl – a hunter, who apparently doesn't own any sleeves. "We'll grid the whole area, search in teams -"

I cut him off, "Not you." Rick looked over at me, in confusion. "You gave almost three units of blood just yesterday, you wouldn't be hiking more than five minutes in this heat before passing out." I looked over at Shane and said, "Nor you, I gotta' check that ankle, if you push it, you'll be laid up for a month." I looked at their dejected faces but was adamant when I said, "You guys need to stay here."

"Guess it's just me," Daryl spoke up, "I'm gonna' head back to the creek, work my way from there." He instantly left, probably to gather some materials as he was going out in the woods alone.

"I can still be useful," Shane grumbled, then said, "I'll drive up the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back."

Rick sighed, "Alright, tomorrow then. We'll start doing this right."

"That means we can't have our people out there with just knives," Shane stated. "They need the gun training we've been promising them."

My dad interjected them, sternly saying, "I'd prefer you not carrying guns on my property. We've managed so far without turning this into an armed camp."

"Dad, I think we should listen to them." I added, knowing that without weapons, we were absolutely naked and we couldn't do a damn thing about any sort of danger.

"She's right, sir," Shane said. "With all due respect, you get a crowd of those things wandering in here…" He scoffed as I saw my father glare at the man. Oh, no.

"Look," Rick cut in, "we're guests here. This is your property and we _will_ respect that." He placed his colt on top of the map that I had placed and Shane reluctantly followed his step.

Rick then stated, "First things first: Set camp, find Sophia."

"I hate to be the one to ask, but someone's got to," Shane started, before he hesitated, "What happens if we find her and she's bit? I think we should all be clear on how we handle that."

Rick stared at the ground before replying, "You do what has to be done."

"And her mother?" I exclaimed. "What do you tell her?"

Andrea looked over at me and said, "We tell her the truth."

I looked over at my father and he just shook his head. They were going to find out about the barn; it was inevitable but my dad just didn't want to face reality. My step-brother and step-mother were gone; they were dead but no matter how many times I've fought with the old man, he wouldn't budge.

Shane then started to say, "I'll gather and secure all the weapons. Make sure no one's carrying till we're at a practice range off site." He paused, continuing with, "I do request one rifleman on lookout. Dale's got experience." Rick's group all looked over at my father, who looked like he was about to say no.

Rick tried to pacify him, "Our people would feel safer, less inclined to carry a gun."

"Dad," I whispered, gaining his attention and sending him a glare. One simple gun wouldn't prove to be detrimental, in fact it would be beneficial for us – for all of us. He looked at me and sighed, but then nodded.

"Thank you," Shane said, before walking away.

I exhaled, then turned to look at Rick and asked, "The stuff that Daryl had, do you have anymore of that? Antibiotics, bandages, anything like that?" Rick glanced over my shoulder to look at Andrea and I did the same.

"Just what you've seen," she replied, before taking her leave.

I bit my lip, "We're running short already." I looked at my dad, "I should make a run into town."

"Not the place Shane went?" Rick questioned, concern lacing his voice.

"No," I shook my head, "there's a pharmacy just a mile down the road. Maggie and I have done it before."

"I need you here, looking after Carl," dad stated. "I have to take care of Patricia."

"But Maggie can't go alone -" I started, only to be cut off by Rick.

He pointed behind us, pointing at Glenn who was helping Lori set up a tent, and said, "Glenn's our 'go-to-town' expert. He'll take care of Maggie." I sent him a grateful look and nodded.

I left the two of them to go back into the house to tell Maggie that she was had to go to the pharmacy to pick up supplies. I trusted her to know exactly what she needed and I told her she was going with Glenn, not me. She was okay with it, though she did mumble something about him better knowing how to ride a horse.

I watched her leave the house from the back door and I was about to go check on Carl when I saw his father sitting on the steps on the front porch.

I walked over to the man in the sheriff's uniform and asked, "Want some company?"

He looked up at me and slightly smiled, before gesturing a spot next to him while saying, "I wouldn't mind it."

"What're you thinking about?" I wondered, taking a seat next to him on the stairs. He was playing with his hat and it seemed clear that he was in deep thought before I came.

"How grateful I am that your father's allowing us to stay here, that my son's okay because of y-" he cleared his throat suddenly, "you and your father. I have a lot to be grateful for."

"Rick," I shook my head, smiling, "I still don't think you understand that we're doing our jobs as humans."

"Still, I'm grateful," he smiled at me and his eyes, oh, my God, his eyes shined even more blue when he was happy. I looked away, almost terrified that I'd be sucked into the deep blue chasm's.

"Before," Rick started, "when you were in New York at Columbia, did you see how bad it got there?"

I nodded, "It was actually worse there. In fact, the city kept quiet, not really spreading the news. It hit the big city first before the south. I saw what happened in New York three months ago; people were eating other people, _killing_ other people and the dead? _They came back_. It made me get on a bus and come here, make sure my family was safe. It wasn't until I was gone till I found out they were dropping bombs in the city."

"Jesus," he mumbled, astonished. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

I shrugged, "It's alright, you can't exactly stop the end of the world." I humorlessly chuckled before asking, "How about you, Deputy Sheriff Grimes? Where were you and your family before this?"

Rick breathed out a laugh from the name I just called him and said, "Shane and I, we were the Sheriff's of King's County, Georgia. It's completely surreal, just a week and a half ago I was lying on a hospital bed, in a coma and here I am."

"Coma?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, "Awhile back, I got shot while Shane and I were on duty. I was left in coma for weeks while the world went to shit and I woke up, wanting to find my family."

"And you found them," I finished, smiling.

"I did." He released a chuckle then said, "I might be the luckiest son of a bitch on earth."

"Yeah, you just might be," I said, laughing with him.

"This place, this farm," he sighed, longingly, "it looks completely untouched."

I shrugged, replying with, "We've lost people. My step-brother, step-mother, and Otis – nothing's untouched in this world."

He turned to look at me with those lovely eyes and asked, almost worriedly, "Do you really believe that?"

I gulped, not sure if answering was a good idea, but said anyways, "The world's always been a crappy place." I scoffed, "It just got crappier."

Rick didn't say anything for what seemed like eternities but it was merely just a minute or two. But he didn't take his eyes off me and I was looking anywhere but him. I could almost feel his eyes penetrating my insides, trying to devour whatever heart I had left.

"You lost something before this – something, _someone_ important – didn't you?"

I didn't move. I turned to look at him, knowing he was already looking at me. Those eyes, I could never forget them – they were absolutely hypnotic, ever since I saw them yesterday, I knew they would be the death of me.

I gave him a soft smile and took the his sheriff's hat from his hands, played with the edges before placing it on his head saying, "I'll go check on Carl."

* * *

I was checking Carl's blood pressure, making sure it was stable when I heard, "You're Peyton, right?" I jumped, a little started, not expecting Carl to have woken up. I looked up from his arm and stared into his glazed brown eyes that he definitely got from his mother.

"Yup, my name's Peyton Greene and I am at your service, Carl Grimes." I smiled at him.

Carl let out a quiet laugh and said, "Dad said you were really cool."

Nodding enthusiastically, I said, "I'm the _cooliest_ person you will ever come across."

"No cool person ever uses the word cooliest." His laughter grew a bit louder.

I feigned a gasp, and then said, pouting, "You know what? You're just jealous you're not as cool as me." He laughed again and then I asked, "How are you feeling, Carl? Are you hungry, thirsty?"

He shook his head and said, "I feel fine; I'm not really hungry, I'm a little thirsty though."

I smiled at him and gave his hand a squeeze. I stood up from the bed and said, "I'll go get you some orange juice."

He nodded, his eyes fluttering, already slipping back into sleep. "Peyton?" He suddenly called. I looked down at him in worry, wondering if anything hurt but instead, he grasped my hand and said, in a soft voice, "Thank you."

I bit my lip, trying to stop my lips from quivering as I leaned down and whispered in the sleeping boys' ear, "I will do anything to save you. _Anything_." I took a courageous moment and kissed him on the forehead before slipping out of the room. I took a deep breath and held my hand to heart, trying to stop the fervent beating.

I couldn't help but let a few tears slip out of my eyes because looking into Carl's brown eyes, I saw Heath – I saw what could've been and it _hurt_. But I knew I was going to protect Carl with everything in me.

I didn't know why nor did I know how, but I knew that this little boy would be in my life for a long time and I knew I was going to take care of him, every step of the way.

* * *

 **And Cherokee Rose is done.**

 **Review for more guys!**

 **Also, know that this story will be a slow burn, like slowwww but it'll be nice, I promise (and worth it).**


	3. Focus

**New Chapter!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **"The day is incomplete**_

 _ **the thoughts of total defeat**_

 _ **I don't know what is happening to me**_

 _ **Or if I'll die, cause I just never sleep**_

 _ **You woke into my night**_

 _ **You could see the madness in my eyes.**_

 _ **I've lost control, please save me from myself."**_ **Insomnia by IAMX**

* * *

Rick's group called them walkers because they never stopped walking. I guess I understood the meaning behind what they called dead people eating other people.

There was a walker in the well, I found out after Maggie came back from her pharmacy run with Glenn. She was completely shaken up about it, watching the thing being beaten to death by T-Dog. She didn't understand why T-Dog didn't just try to save it, like we were. She just didn't understand.

"Because they're dead, Maggie." I sternly said, sitting in her room after dinner so that we could catch up with the day's events. "T-Dog did that thing a favor."

She scoffed, horrified by what I said, "You really think there's no cure?"

"Maggie, I have told you and dad, time and time again – there's no way we can get the people we love back." She refused to look me in the eyes but I was adamant, "There isn't. They're d -"

"They didn't die in an _accident_ , Peyton." She seethed, taking me by surprise, trying to ignore the pang in my heart. Wow, that hurt me in a way I didn't think was possible. She gasped, suddenly realizing her words, and held onto my hands, "Oh God, oh, my God, I-I'm so sorry Peyt. I-I didn't mean -"

I shook my head, "It's okay, you're upset. I understand, I know you didn't mean it."

"I shouldn't have said that, Peyt." Maggie whispered, "I can only imagine what you went through."

"They're gone, Mags; it's better for me to move on." I softly said, holding onto her hands as comfort for both of us. I looked down at the engagement ring still on my left hand, on my ring finger. I sighed before removing my hands away from hers and slipping off the ring.

"Are you sure?" Maggie asked, with a raised eyebrow and concerned look.

I let out a shaky sigh, before putting the ring in her nightstand, "It's just a reminder." I shook my head, "And I don't want any memories of that night."

Maggie nodded, her hand stroking mine as we sat on silence on her bed for a few minutes.

"I had sex with Glenn," She suddenly said.

My jaw dropped, "The 'go-to-town' expert?" I practically yelled.

She shushed me, looked at her door, and then nodded again, "At the pharmacy."

"…Okay, well, hm…okay,"

"Thanks, Peyton," she deadpanned.

I couldn't help but laugh, "I'm sorry, I just didn't expect that coming from you – okay, that's a lie, I absolutely expected it but I expected a guy more like Shane."

"No," she quickly said. "That man scares me."

I blew out a raspberry, "Shane is not that scary; he kind of reminds me of Heath." She thumped me, which resulted in me exclaiming, "Ow!?"

"Are you insane? Heath was a puppy compared to Shane. The man shaved his hair off, Peyt, no stable human does that."

"Hey," I scolded, "no judging the man on his hair styling choices."

"Maybe you want to have sex with him," Maggie grinned suggestively.

I rolled my eyes and grumbled, " _I_ don't want to have sex with anyone." Pale blue eyes flashed across my mind and I instantly shook them away from my mind. "Unlike _someone_ I know."

Maggie shoved my shoulder playfully, saying, "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Peyton!"

I laughed along with her and then asked, "Was it nice?"

She turned to give me a soft smile and nodded, "Yeah, it was. It felt…normal."

"Do you like him?"

Her gaze shifted to her floor and she cleared her throat, whispering, "I don't know. I don't think so."

"Do you think you might?"

"I don't know."

"You never know, Maggie," I grinned, "you might end up married to him."

My younger sister loudly snorted and said, "Yeah, _okay_." The laughter slowly ceased and she captured my hand in her hers, asking softly, "Peyton?" I hummed, letting her know I was listening as I played with the bedding on top of her bed. "Do you miss them?"

I looked up at her with a large lump in my throat because I knew, God, I knew she wasn't talking about our family members – or _walkers –_ we were keeping in the barn. I saw it in her eyes; she was asking about New York.

I sighed shakily, trying to control the overwhelming amount of emotions I was feeling at that moment. "Every day," I whispered.

* * *

My father didn't like what he was seeing.

He didn't like seeing someone in our kitchen that wasn't his wife or Patricia or Beth or Maggie or me. No, he didn't like seeing Lori and Carol in the kitchen with Beth and Patricia. Lori came up to me the following morning and asked if it would be alright if they cooked dinner for us. I couldn't help but smile at her, knowing this was the sweetest gesture anyone's given us in a long time.

My father didn't like that Daryl took a horse without his permission nor did he like that Jimmy – even though he was safe and sound – went off to go search for Sophia with Andrea and T-Dog. Hershel Greene was a stubborn man who was hard to please. Rick was going to learn just that.

Maggie and I shared a look, as we saw our father glare at the two ladies in the kitchen. We were fixing up the extra table we had as we knew the eight person dining table wouldn't be enough for the amount of people here.

"We need to set boundaries with these people." He grumbled, watching us set us the table. These people? "They're getting a little too comfortable."

"It's just dinner," Maggie tried to pacify him.

"Dad," I started, "they're good people. It's nice to have some company around here."

He scoffed before looking back at Maggie, "What's going on with you and that Asian boy?" Oh, good God.

"Glenn," she corrected. "He's a friend."

"I'd rather he wasn't," dad mumbled, distaste in his tone. "Bad enough I have to chase Beth and Jimmy around."

"Well, you don't have to chase me around. I'm not 16." Maggie stated.

"I know you're not." He looked at the two of us, then looked back at Maggie, "You're the second eldest, I expect you to be mature. You _know_ how I feel." This conversation is literally giving me a migraine.

Maggie let out an exasperated breath before staring at our father and saying in annoyance, "I'm a little old for us to be having this conversation." She left the table but not before glaring at our dad.

As she stormed out, my father called, "Don't get close to them. They're not going to be around forever." We heard her run upstairs and my dad looked at me, "That means for both of you."

I humorlessly laughed, "You'd really let them go out there again?"

"They're dangerous."

"They're _people_." I quietly seethed, walking up to him. "We need them as much as they need us."

"You're only saying this because you have a soft spot for the boy, which I understand Peyton." I angrily scoffed as he continued, "I know why you have a soft spot for that boy."

"No, dad," I shook my head, before furiously whispering, "I'm saying this because I know what's out there. I know what's there, the world you _refuse_ to see." I heard laughter coming from the kitchen, looking past my dad to see Beth and Lori laughing together. I warmly smiled at the sight before looking back at my father, "They're staying, dad. I will fight for them, for them to stay."

He was taken aback by my response, with only saying, "You'd fight against your own family, your own _blood_?"

I reached out and grasped his hand, smiling up at him, "Family doesn't always end in blood, dad."

My father was starting to say something before a loud crack interrupted him. The women in the kitchen dropped what they were doing as my father and I froze before running outside.

It was a gunshot.

* * *

"I found it washed up on a creek bed right there," Daryl stated, referring to Sophia's doll he found and pointed at the map that Rick had laid across Daryl's bed. My father and I were stitching Daryl up, well, I was stitching the hunter up as my dad attempted to check the bullet graze on Daryl's head.

"Cuts the grid almost in half," Rick stated, as he turned to look at Shane who seemed skeptical of the entire situation. I think Shane believed that attempting to find Sophia was a lost cause and maybe he was right.

Daryl then said in a snarky tone, "Yeah, you're welcome."

I raised an eyebrow at my patient before finishing up his last stitch and hearing Rick ask, "How's he looking?"

I looked at Rick about to answer before my dad did it for me, "I had no idea we'd be going through the antibiotics so quickly."

"Dad," I hissed, already annoyed with his attitude.

He ignored me before walking over to his medical supplies and grabbing a rag to wipe his hands. "Any idea what happened to my horse?"

"Yeah," snarky hunter replied, "the one who almost killed me? If it's smart, it left the country."

"We call that one Nelly," Dad explained, "as in Nervous Nelly. I could've told you if you had bothered to ask." He walked up to Rick and said, "It's a wonder you people survived this long."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at my father's insensitive words. I knew that I would change his mindset, I had to. I don't know why but these people, they gave me hope and I haven't felt hope in a very long time.

* * *

It was just an hour later we were all sitting at the dinner table. Silverware was clanking against all of our plates in what might've been the most silent and awkward dinner in the history of dinners. It was so quiet, I swear I heard a fly die and become a fly walker. But I didn't want to be the one to break the silence.

Beth, Maggie, Jimmy, and Glenn sat at the 'kids' table as the rest of us sat at the dining table, eating the rather delicious meal of vegetables and chicken made by Lori and Carol. I was sitting next to my father, who sat at the head of the table with Patricia across from me and Dale next to me. I truly didn't know what to do at this moment but doing nothing seemed to be the best option, do nothing but eat.

"Does anybody know how to play guitar?" Oh, Glenn, you're a sweetheart. He was turned around in his chair and continued, "Dale found a cool one." No one replied to him, which urged him to say, "Somebody's gotta' know how to play."

Patricia quietly spoke up, "Otis did." I looked down at my meal, closing my eyes shut at the memory of Otis singing some old country song that only he knew as Shawn, Maggie, and I roasted marshmallows, while laughing at his antics.

"Yes," my dad started, "and he was very good too." And thus, the silence ensued. I gulped, wondering how worse can this dinner get?

Suddenly, I heard crinkling paper, which caused me to look over at the kids table and see Glenn writing something down on a little piece of paper before handing it over to Maggie. I raised an eyebrow, then saw that my father and Dale has both seen what had just happened. They stared disapprovingly but Maggie and I shared a knowing look.

I guess Maggie liked Glenn more than she let on.

The dinner dragged on when eventually Beth, Maggie, and I volunteered to do the dishes while everyone got some much needed rest. Carol grabbed a plate to give to the archer who couldn't join us as I strictly forbade him and put him on bed rest. I told Lori it was alright for Carl to start eating whole foods, such as chicken and vegetables. He's had enough of soup for the past couple of nights.

Beth was clearing the little bits and pieces of food off the plates as I watched them and Maggie dried them. I however came to a halt when I saw Shane about to walk out the front door. I looked at Beth and said, "I'll be back in a couple of minutes." She nodded and I turned to Maggie, who nodded as well.

I quickly jogged, watching as Shane stomped his way over to the group, and called out, "Shane!"

He instantly stopped and turned around, confused. Shane walked the remaining steps towards me with his long strides and asked, "How can I help you, ma'am?" I smiled at him, always the gentleman.

I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling anxious about the request I was going to ask of him. Dad wouldn't be too happy with me after this one. "I was actually wondering if you would give shooting lessons to…me?" I gulped.

He actually smirked, and let out a soft chuckle, "You think your dad will be okay with that?"

I shook my head, "Absolutely not."

"I don't know, Peyton," he sighed, rubbing a spot on his head. "Your dad's pretty strict about keeping our people separate from your people."

I shook my head and heaved out a large, agitated breath, "I really wish everyone would stop saying 'ours' and 'yours'." I gave him a small smile, "Shane, I'll talk to my father about the living situation; he listens to me – on good days." He released a small laugh, which resulted in me laughing along with him.

"Peyton," a new, familiar voice intervened. I turned to lock eyes with icy blue ones and I almost forgot what Shane and I were talking about. I swallowed and smiled at the former deputy sheriff as he looked between his best friend and I. "Is everything alright?"

I nodded over to Shane, "I was just asking Shane if it'd be possible to learn how to handle a gun." I cleared my throat, before whispering, "Otis was the only one who really knew how to shoot." I swallowed hard, "He took me and my stepbrother out hunting a few times but I was never really good."

Rick smiled at me before saying, "Peyton, I don't think your dad -"

"Don't worry about my dad," I sternly stated. I glanced at both Shane and Rick, "I can promise you he won't be a problem. You guys are not leaving this farm; I'll make sure of it."

Rick looked at the ground, before looking up and whispered, "We'd really appreciate that."

I shrugged, then sighed, "I know what's out there, my dad doesn't. He refuses to see some thing's that I've been trying to convince him of but he's an old, stubborn man. He'll get over this." I saw them nod at me, which made me bit my bottom lip and sheepishly ask, " _So_ , about those lessons?"

Shane cleared his throat, "I was actually thinking tomorrow we take out some of the group and teach them to shoot, you can come with us. We can take the kid, Jimmy; he's been itching to learn."

I quickly nodded, "That's completely fine by me, thank you so much guys."

Rick shook his head, "No, thank you Peyton. You've been saving us from the start." I looked up and met his warm eyes, and couldn't contain the smile coming to my face. He returned my smile and raised his hand to give my shoulder a squeeze before turning to Shane. The rugged man nodded once and winked at me before leaving with his best friend.

* * *

" _I'm sorry Ms. Greene, we couldn't save him."_

I awoke heaving in and out large gusts of fresh farm air, salt water peppering my forehead, neck, and back. I looked around the room; there weren't any doctors solemnly shaking their heads, there weren't any nurses giving me mournful looks, and there was no Heath, holding my hand through this like he promised he would. No one was here, it was just another nightmare that I couldn't wake up from.

I was alone.

I glanced at the clock that hung on top of my dresser and saw that it was nearly six am. I guess this was a decent time to wake up, unlike other nights when I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't go back to sleep. Some nights I was lucky, I didn't have a recurring nightmare, other nights however, luck wasn't on my side. And I knew this was a form of PTSD, but I also knew that I had to go through this; I have my family, I'll be fine.

I have to be fine.

I got out of bed and went to the bathroom, being the first one up always has its perks; there's no line for the bathroom, there's no arguing over the bathroom, and there's no banging on the bathroom door. I took a shower and did my business, then dressed for the day – a simple burgundy tank top with skinny jeans.

I decided to check on Carl, make sure he was progressing and wanted to make him a small meal, make both of us a small meal. Quickly making a large pot of oatmeal with peaches, for the rest of the family when they decide to wake up, I took two portions out for Carl and I with some orange juice.

I walked into his room to see him fast asleep; his parents were outside, sleeping in their tents. He looked so much like a child, God knows how much he's really seen, how much he was _forced_ to see. Carl spoke of a deer before the surgery, a simple deer that took his breath away. He was innocence, the epitome of a young, unknowing boy; he doesn't deserve this childhood, no child does.

I placed the bowls on top of the bedside table and grabbed the stethoscope inside the drawer of the table. I put the earpieces in my ears and listened intently to his heart – strong and loud; he was healthy, he had the chance of being a child again.

"Peyton," he suddenly mumbled, which caused me to slightly jump. I looked up from his chest and took the chest piece off his rib cage to see him stir awake.

I smiled at him, "Hey, Mr. Cool, how are you feeling today?"

He groaned and stretched out his arms, legs, and cracked his surely stiff neck. Carl then managed to sit up on his own and sat against the headboard, smiling widely at me. He said, "I think I can finally get out of bed today because I feel great."

I laughed, "You sure?" He nodded. "Does anything hurt?" He shook his head. "Are your stitches feeling uncomfortable?" He shrugged. I smiled, "I wish I could pull them out, but I have to wait at least a week."

Carl sighed, "Does it hurt?"

I raised an eyebrow at him and wondered, "You had a bullet go through you and you're wondering if the removal of a string hurts?"

He laughed aloud for a few seconds and said, "Yeah, I guess you're right. I did survive a gun shot."

"Yeah, you did!" I nodded, enthusiastically. "I think that makes you the coolest one here."

"Cooler than you?" He smirked.

" _Totally_ cooler than me," I winked at him. "But it really doesn't hurt more than a pinch and it's done within a couple of minutes, sweetie." I ruffled his hair and asked, "You hungry?" The boy smiled and nodded, before I picked up one of the bowls of oatmeal and handed it over to him. He started to slowly eat it, almost cherishing the taste of fresh peaches I added in for flavor.

"I haven't had fruits in so long," Carl whispered, plopping another spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth.

I felt my mouth curl into a gentle smile before brushing some brown hair away from his his warm blue eyes that he obviously inherited from his father. "You're here now, Carl. You can have as many peaches as you want."

* * *

I clenched my jaw and shook my head, agitated that I've just wasted another bullet. Was I holding it wrong? No, Shane said I was holding it correctly; he said I just needed a little more practice and I would be fine. Jimmy was doing just fine compared to me. Andrea was to my right and she was a natural at handling a firearm, her aim had been on point for the past hour that we've been training.

"You alright?" I heard Rick ask from behind me.

I sighed, turning around, "Maybe guns aren't for me."

He chuckled, "Or maybe you're just thinking too much." I shrugged, not really knowing what to do with the glock in my hands; it was heavy, cold, and unfamiliar. I knew I had to protect my family and myself, I just didn't know how.

"Shawn was better at hunting than I ever was." I solemnly stated.

Rick had his hands on his waist and looked over to where Lori and Carl were practicing their shooting. I saw him smile over at them and look back at me, smiling at me. He then walked the short distance to stand right in front of me.

He said, "It's not about being good at it or not, it's about focus."

I pouted and mumbled, "You would think a girl who has performed multiple surgeries in her life would know a thing or two about focus."

"Holding a scalpel and holding a gun are two different things Peyton," he chortled. He motioned me to turn around and I did, knowing he was standing right behind me. "Raise your gun." I did as told.

Rick took in a deep breath before saying, "They may be different, but they have something in common." I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what in the world he was talking about. "You needed practice before actually performing an operation, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Handling a firearm is the same thing, practice."

I sucked my teeth and grumbled, "Even after an hour and wasting valuable bullets?"

From behind, he laughed again, "Even then; it's not simple shooting a target that's half a football field away." He cleared his throat, "Okay, your guns raised, your hold is good, now look at the empty bottle, and you have to remember, just like in the operating room, _you're_ in control." I nodded. "Focus," I did. "Breathe," I did. "Now, shoot."

I yelped excitedly when I heard the shatter of the beer bottle and exclaimed, "I did it! I can't believe I did it! It only took 12 tries, but I finally got it."

Rick chuckled, as I turned around smiling at him, "See? Practice."

"Thank you, Rick." I softly said.

He just grinned at me, his white teeth sparkling and crow feet gathering at the corners of his gentle eyes. "Don't thank me yet, I'm gonna' go and set up a few more. I expect the last few rounds just as good as this one. You know what? I think that we're going to have a beautiful friendship."

I snorted, "I think you're right." I had six bullets left and I definitely couldn't promise that I'd make all the shots.

* * *

I made five out of the six bullets, overall, I didn't do as terribly as I started off. Rick helped a lot and so did Shane when Rick was off helping the others. Since they helped me with my firearm practice, I thought that I could give them some more fresh fruits and vegetables. I'm not sure how long they were out there in the open but fresh produce was definitely hard to find.

I found Lori folding some laundry at our picnic table and walked up to her with a giant picnic basic filled with eggs, apples, peaches, cauliflower, potatoes, and onions – salt and pepper were added bonuses.

"Hey," I called out, grabbing her attention. She looked up at with her kind brown eyes and smiled.

"Peyton," she nodded, "it's always nice to see you." I grinned and plopped the picnic basket down on the the picnic table. Lori's eyes widened considerably and she started to say, "Peyton, you've already done -"

"Stop," I held up a hand. "You guys are a big group, you need your strength. And there's Carl, the last thing I want is for that kid to get sick from malnutrition."

She sighed, then looked up and smiled at me, "What you're doing, what you've done for this group, Peyton I -"

I cut her off again, by shaking my head, "You're people, that's it. You're just people trying to find a start and I will make my father see that, I promised Rick and Shane. Now, it's my promise to you."

Lori almost looked like she was about to cry and she was going to say something when we suddenly heard, "Hey! We got your stuff!"

"Maggie!?" I exclaimed, astonished at her tone of voice she was using with Lori. Glenn was in tow, entirely distressed at what Maggie just yelled out and Lori looked nervous, looking between me and Maggie.

Maggie didn't even pay mind to me or Lori when the latter pleaded, "Maggie, please, come in -"

"Why?!" My younger sister exploded. "Nothing to hide, right?" She started pulling things out of a plastic bag that she was carrying with her, and started throwing items on the ground while yelling, "Lotion! Conditioner! Soap Opera Digest!"

" _Maggie Greene_!" I hissed. She barely even glanced at me, she was too busy glaring at the tall brunette in front of us.

"Next time you want something, get it your damn self! We're not your errand boys."

"Honey, I -"

"And here's your abortion pills," she slammed the little box to Lori's chest before storming off. What? Abortion pills? My heart dropped to my stomach as Glenn shared a look between me and Lori before walking away, following Maggie. I swallowed hard and stared at the little box of Morning After Pills in her trembling hands.

"Peyton," Lori started, "you have to understand the circumstances that -"

"Don't do it," I whispered, through quivering lips. "They probably wouldn't even work; they need to be taken within five days after intercourse. But you have a choice, I didn't. So, _please_ , don't do it."

She furrowed her eyebrows as she wondered, "What do you mean you didn't have -"

Don't cry, I willed myself, don't cry Peyton. "I am here, _Lori_." My voice cracked. "My father's here. We can, to the best of our abilities, make sure your pregnancy will be successful. We can give the baby a future."

"I -"

"We saved your boy." She couldn't meet my eyes and looked down at the clothes she was previously folding. "We can save this baby; I know we can."

I didn't bother hearing a reply from her so I left, arms crossed against my chest, tears trailing down my face. I ran into the house and up the stairs into my room, locking my door behind me. I couldn't stop the sobs that forced their way out of my mouth and I couldn't reach my bed. Instead, I sunk to the floor of my room and clutched my stomach, praying to find something that used to be there, that it was still there.

"I'm sorry," I sputtered, shakily and out of breath. "I-I didn't have a _choice_."

* * *

 **Huh, what's wrong with Peyton? Anyone figure it out yet?**

 **Also, I'm so sorry for lateness, I wanted to update every week at the most but life got in the way! I'll do my best to update at least once a week! Thank you guys for the love and support! Also, made a mistake in the last chapter! Carl's eyes are BLUE not brown, silly me ugh.**


	4. Sophia

**I'm really not gonna' make getting out new chapters a once a month type of thing. I swear I'll do my best to start popping these babies out!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **"I was looking, I was peeking over I was looking**_  
 ** _In the corner feather flint the salt_**  
 ** _I've heard it's all the same_**  
 ** _So I hope I'm still alive of course_**  
 _ **When it does hit the sun."**_ ** _-_ Look Out by James Vincent McMorrow**

* * *

It seemed as though Maggie finally understood that our father was wrong. These walkers were anything but sick people; they were _dead_ and there will never be a cure but it's horrible that a took an attack that almost killed her for her to realize the truth. I'm just grateful Glenn was there to save her; I don't know what I would've done if something happened to her. I couldn't lose a sister.

The next afternoon, I was doing dishes as everyone had finished their lunches and I offered to do them alone. I needed some time to think about Lori, hoping to whatever God was left that she didn't take those silly pills.

"Why didn't you tell me about the barn?" I froze after I heard a voice angrily whisper. I dropped the bowl I was cleaning into the sink, flinching at the loud crash it made when metal hit metal and turned to my right side to see Rick, giving me his familiar hard stare with those icy eyes.

"How?" I mumbled, internally horrified he found out. I knew it was going to happen eventually but my plan was to ease them all into the idea of a barn full of the undead, not for them to find out like this, so suddenly.

"Glenn found out, Maggie confirmed it," Rick sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter near me.

"Rick, you have to understand -"

"Your father thinks they're sick." I bit my lip anxiously, nodding at him. "Do you?" I shook my head. "Is this what you meant when you said he refuses to see things?"

I sighed, "He just doesn't want to believe that the one woman he was able to love after my mom died is dead too." I met his eyes and he stared down at me with concern. "My father wouldn't listen to the stories of New York; he's blissfully ignorant."

"But he has to know they aren't safe? That they kill?"

I gravely shook my head, "He hasn't seen any of them kill. He just thinks it's a rare case of rabies, making them want to bite – not feed."

"And what if _we_ showed him?" He whispered, leaning in towards me and his hand outstretched to provide emphasis. "What if we proved to him that -"

"Rick," for the second time that afternoon, I froze at a familiar voice. I locked eyes with Rick before turning to meet my father holding an empty dish. "What's going on here, Peyton?"

I heard the former sheriff inhale before he softly said, "We found the barn, Hershel."

"Leave it be," my father mumbled, walking over to me to hand me the plate.

"Well, I'd like to talk about it, but either way – your barn, your farm, your say." Rick firmly stated, before I moved out of the way so that Rick was standing in front of my father. I stood behind Rick and watched the events unfold.

"I don't want to talk about the barn." My father said stubbornly. "I don't want to debate."

"Not a debate, a discussion," Rick suggested.

"I need you and your group gone by the end -"

"Dad," I seethed and he glanced at me, catching my glare but returned to stare down Rick.

The sheriff shook his head, "I talked to Dale. You and I have our differences with the way we look at the walkers. Those people, they may be dead, they may be alive." He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "But my people, _us_ , we are alive right now, right here, right in front of you. You send us out there and that could change."

"I've given you safe harbor; my conscious is clear." Dad stated, and he started to walk away from us before I grabbed him by his wrist and gave him a pleading look. He sighed and stood next to me, staring at Rick.

Rick shot me a grateful look, before saying, "This farm – this farm is special. You've been shielded from what's been going on out there. Dale said you saw everything happen on the news. Well, it's been – it's been a long time since the cameras stopped rolling. The first time I saw a walker it was just half a body snapping at me from the ground. My inclination wasn't to kill it. But what the world is out there isn't what you saw on TV."

He paused and took a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before continuing, "It is much, _much_ worse and it changes you. Either into one of them or something a lot less than the person you were." His voice shifted to a whisper, "Please do not – do not send us out there again."

My father was staring out the window that was in front of the sink, looking like he wasn't going to change his mind. Rick and I shared a look before I let go of my father's wrist, knowing that I had to do something; it had to be me.

"I go," I softly said, causing both my father and Rick to snap their necks to look down at me. I glanced up to meet my fathers terrified gaze. "If you make them go, I go with them."

"Peyton -" Rick started before being cut off by my dad.

"You will do _no such thing_ , Peyton Greene." I flinched at the tone of his voice, a tone I haven't heard since I was still a teenager who was caught smoking a joint of marijuana.

I swallowed hard and licked my suddenly dry lips, realizing in that moment I would put my life on the line for Carl, for that baby, for the people in this group. Refusing to meet my fathers eyes, I looked up at Rick, who looked like I said the best thing he's ever heard.

I clenched my jaw before meeting my father's piercing glare and I whispered, "Lori's pregnant, dad." Immediately, his glare simmered down to a gentle gaze and I knew I got him. He was going to listen to me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Rick look down at the tiled floors and clench his fists – he didn't know I knew. "If they go, I go with them. There's nothing stopping me – not even you."

"Sweetheart -"

I shook my head, "The baby could be a gift in here or a death sentence out there. Dad, don't you see them?! Rick, Carl, Glenn, Daryl, and the rest of them? _We_ need this group. We are not that family that turns away good people. They can help us secure this place. We can survive together."

"I'm telling you – I'm telling you the both of you, we can't." Oh, that stubborn, stubborn man. "I know what you went through was hard for you Peyt, but I've thought about it -"

"Love one another, as I have loved you," I whispered, causing him to clamp his mouth shut. I cleared my throat of the lumping forming and said, "That's what you always told Maggie and me, right? Love one another? That's what I'm doing. Think about it again, dad." I wrapped my hand around my fathers large, calloused hand and gave it squeeze before I walked out of the backdoor in the kitchen.

I only managed to walk a few feet before I heard, "You meant what you said?" I turned around and saw Rick slightly jog his way over to me, with a look of gratitude and a hint of adoration plastered on his face.

"Every word," I gently smiled. "My father respects you, Rick; I know he does. He'll come around."

"We need you, Peyton." My eyes widened in surprise, not entirely sure I was expecting that to come out of his mouth. "We need you a lot more than you need us."

I humorlessly chuckled, "I don't think that's true." He scrunched up his eyebrows at me, looking pensive. I explained, "Before you came, I was going through something…something I don't want to talk about, something I'm still fighting. I was gone; I was nothing. But when you came barreling in with Carl and when I saw the boys' eyes open up again, it was a surreal moment of clarity and I was… _somebody_. I mattered and I-I felt like I belonged. I felt _something_ again." I sighed, "Trust me, Rick, I need you guys too."

I stood stunned and still when former Officer Grimes wrapped his tough but lean arms around me and pulled me into his chest for a hug. I quickly reacted and wrapped my arms around his waist. I was barely tall enough to rest my head on his shoulder, so his chest had to do and I vaguely felt his chin atop of my head. We stood, for what was probably a few seconds but felt like a lifetime and there it was again – the feeling of a haven, of a safety net.

"Thank you," he whispered.

* * *

"Are you guys canoodling?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow when I saw Glenn and Maggie acting rather cuddly on the front porch steps. I noticed Carl and Patricia playing a rather serious game of checkers with Beth watching the two. "So, this is what I get when I've been the only one cooking dinner an hour, _huh_?"

"Oh, shut up," Maggie laughed, throwing Glenn's hat at me which I caught out of reflex. "You enjoy cooking."

"Excuse me," I grumbled, "I resent that and this hat." I feigned an angry shake at Glenn. "Where's your actual hat?" I wondered, staring at the fishing hat in my hands.

"Ask Maggie," Glenn said, winking at my sister.

"You guys are gross," I grinned. "I love it." Glenn smiled at me before standing up and was about to go back to his camp when Andrea and T-Dog walked up to him instead.

"Do you know what's going on?" T-Dog asked, standing in front of the porch steps with Andrea.

"Where is everyone?" Glenn wondered, as I left the hat on the railing of the porch and joined Maggie, who was already standing next Glenn.

"You haven't seen Rick?" Andrea asked at the same time as Glenn. "He went off with Hershel. We were supposed to leave a couple of hours ago."

"Yeah, you were. What the hell?" Daryl suddenly seethed, storming in to join the rest of us and with Carol in tow.

Carol said, "Rick told us he was going out."

"Damn it!" Daryl exclaimed, "Isn't anyone taking this seriously?" He pointed behind him, "We got us a damn trail." He turned around to see Shane stomping his way over to us with a duffel bag full of the guns he wasn't allowed to have. "What's all this?" Daryl wondered, pointing at the bag.

"You with me man?" Shane retaliated, without answering Daryl. I narrowed my eyes at him, with him for what?

"Yeah," Daryl instantly said, picking up a shotgun from the pile of firearms.

"You already got yours?" Shane asked Andrea.

"Yeah," she said, "where's Dale?"

"He's on his way," Shane mumbled, before handing T-Dog a gun.

"Thought we couldn't carry," T-Dog said.

"We can and we have to." Shane said, before raising his voice, saying to all of us, "Look, it was one thing sitting around here picking daisies when we thought this place was supposed to be safe. But now we know it ain't." He looked at Glenn, holding out another shotgun to him, "How about you? You gonna' protect yours?" Glenn glared at the man but took the gun from him anyways.

Shane then looked at me, "What about you, doc? You can shoot well enough -"

I interrupted him, exclaiming, "Stop! You do this, you hand out these guns, my dad will make you leave _tonight_."

"We _have_ to stay, Shane." Carl stated from the porch.

"What is this?" Lori suddenly questioned, who made her way onto the porch from the back I assume.

"We ain't going anywhere, okay?" Shane reassured. "Now look, Hershel, he's just going to have to understand. Okay? He's gonna' have to. Now we need to find Sophia, am I right?" He crouched down in front of Carl, with a revolver in his hands. "Now, I want you to take this. You take it, Carl, and you keep your mother safe. You do whatever it takes. You know how, go ahead and take the gun."

Lori marched her way over to her son and pushed the child behind her, practically snarling, "Rick said no guns. This is not your call. _This_ is not your decision to make."

"Oh shit!" T-Dog abruptly cried out. We all turned to find what he was looking at and I clenched my jaw shut as dread filled me while watching my father and Rick reel in two walkers from the swamp Otis used to find them in.

" _What is that?!_ " Shane growled before taking off, which caused us all to chase after him and for Lori to call out his name, in attempts in trying to stop him. We ran after him to where dad and Rick were, trying to lure in two of the undead.

"Shane, just back off," Rick grumbled, as he struggled to get a hold of the snare pole my father used for crazy animals.

"Why do your people have guns?" My dad asked at the same time as Rick.

"Are you kidding me!?" Shane shouted, circling Rick and my dad. "You see what they're holding onto!?"

"I see _who_ I'm holding onto!" My father argued.

"No, man, you don't see!"

"Shane," Rick yelled, "just let us do this and then we can talk!"

"What you want to talk about, Rick?" Shane screamed, still circling around the walkers. "These things are not sick! They're not people! They're dead! Ain't gotta' feel nothing for them, cause all they do, they kill! These things right here! They're the things that killed Amy!" He shouted at Andrea. "They killed Otis! They're gonna' kill all of us!"

"Shane, shut up!" Rick yelled.

"Hey, Hershel, man let me ask you something." Shane said, walking a few yards in front of the walker my dad was handling. He pulled out his gun, cocked it, and said, "Can a living, breathing person, could they walk away from this?" Shane shot his gun, causing all of us to jump in shock and fear as we watched the bullet pierce through the walker's chest.

"Stop it!" Rick screamed, horrified.

"That's three rounds in the chest," Shane stated. "Could someone who's alive? Could they just take that!? Why's it still coming?!" He shot twice more, and I flinched at the loud shots and his screams, "That's its hearts, its lungs! Why's it still coming?!" He shot twice more which made Maggie let out a little cry and I felt my heart break a little with each shot, watching as my father stared in horror.

"Shane, that's enough!" Rick ordered his friend.

"Yeah, you're right, man." Shane stomped his way over to the walker my father held and said, "That is enough." He shot the walker in between its eyes, less than two feet away from my father who fell to his knees as he watched the dead woman fall to her death. "Enough risking our lives for a little girl who's gone! Enough living next to a barn full of things that are trying to kill us. Enough." Shane glared at his best friend, "Rick, it ain't like it was before! Now if y'all want to live, if you want to survive, you got to fight for it! I'm talking about fighting right here, right now!"

Shane then took off to the barn full of walkers as Rick shouted at my dad, "Take the snare pole!" My father was still on his knees, still as a rock. "Hershel, listen to me, man, please! Take it now! Hershel!" It was almost as though he was in a catatonic state because the things he just witnessed. "No, Shane! Don't do this brother!"

"Wait!"

"Don't do it!"

"Shane, this is not the way!"

Every plea for the man to stop shattering the locks with the pickax was ignored as Shane busted the door open and banged on it, yelling, "Come on! We're out here!"

And when the first walker came out, it was almost as if the world had stopped for these brief minutes. Shots fired throughout; Andrew, T-Dog, Shane, Daryl, and eventually Glenn who sought Maggie's permission starting firing at the walkers. Beth was in my arms sobbing, as Maggie – who was holding onto our father – couldn't hold back her own sobs as she stared at the massacre in front of us.

"Don't watch, sweetie, don't watch." I whispered into Beth's ear as she sobbing into my chest.

It was her mom, _my_ mom. I couldn't stop the few tears that managed to escape when I saw our mother and our brother fall to their deaths. I knew they were gone, but they were dead now, nothing was left of them and watching it happen hurt more than one could possibly imagine. We just lost two of the most important people in our family and my little Beth had to witness her own mother get gunned down.

Beth didn't deserve this, my father didn't deserve this. No one did.

I released a shaky breath when all the bullets stopped firing and almost relaxed, until we all heard one more little snarl. Our eyes were glued to the entrance of the barn, when we saw a little girl with dirt covered little sneakers and a soiled blue rainbow shirt slowly tread her way out of the barn.

"Sophia!" Carol suddenly cried, running for her daughter. Daryl caught her before she managed to get near her daughter. We all watched as a girl, who was Carl's age, dragged herself out of the barn with a big, blotchy red bite on her right shoulder. No one dared moved an inch as we continued to silently stare in horror at Sophia slowly making her way through the bodies of the deceased, to us, to feed on us. It wasn't Sophia anymore; she was dead.

Everyday, everyday in this life we tell ourselves it's all going to be okay, we're all going to be okay. But it's not, _this_ wasn't okay. There's no going back after this.

With shaky hands and a certain heavy heart, Rick shot her.

He shot her.

* * *

 **I actually didn't realize how late this chapter was but hey, I'm doing my best, I swear. But the next chapter will be here soon.**

 **Also, I'm really hoping this story gets some love, I know there are Rick/OC fans out there; I'll pick you out of the bunch LOL! Hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I am writing it.**

 **Send me the love in review form, love you guys!**


	5. Beth Greene

**It's summer - expect a hefty amount of updates!**

 **Thank you for sticking with me guys, I appreciate it so much! You guys mean the world to me.**

 **Now, enjoy.**

* * *

 ** _"Sometimes I feel so happy, sometimes I feel so sad_**

 ** _sometimes I feel so happy, but mostly you just make me mad_**

 ** _Baby, you just make me mad_**

 ** _Linger on your pale blue eyes_**

 ** _Linger on your pale blues." Pale Blue Eyes by the Velvet Underground_**

* * *

"Don't look," I heard Daryl grunt, holding onto Carol, who was still weeping over the loss of her child. She stood up, shoving him away and ran away crying. I sadly watched her go, blinking back the tears that were threatening to come at bay. I held my baby sister in my arms, who was still sobbing because she watched her mother die before her. It was aching to see her like this, the worst part was that all I could do was embrace her, hold her as tight as I could and allow her torrent of tears to soak my tank top.

"Beth, no!" I exclaimed, as she shoved me away and quickly made her way past the various dead bodies to get to our mother. She moved past Rick, who tried to stop her, and knelt on the ground, next to Annette.

I quickly made my way to stand near Rick as I watch Beth caress her mother's face. I looked away, my heart not being able to take Beth's sobs over Annette anymore. I looked at Rick, who gave me a devastated, almost pleading look and I was about to say something before I heard a loud shriek mixed with a series of growls.

I took off running, screaming, "Beth!"

The rest of them followed me as we all attempted to pull Beth away from the walker who was once her mother. I yanked her away, with the help of Rick and Shane, away from the clawing hands of what used to be the woman who provided for us. My father wrapped his arms around both me and Beth, while I covered Beth's eyes to prevent her from seeing Andrea drive a scythe through her mother's skull.

I held my sobbing sister in my arms before guiding her and my father away from the massacre, trying to forget that the bullets firing even happened. It wasn't long before we heard a rather booming, irritating voice following us.

Shane grumbled, stumbling along behind us, "We've been combing these woods looking for her and she was in there all along? You knew!" He accused.

"Leave us alone!" Maggie cried.

"Hey, Shane, just stop man," we heard Rick say, trying to pacify the furious man.

"Get your hands off me," Shane snarled. "You knew and you kept it from us." I was tempted, so extremely temped to raise my voice at him but for my own sake, I didn't.

"I didn't know," my father said, as I handed off Beth to Maggie, who started to take the girl to the front door.

"That's bullshit! I think ya'll knew!"

"We didn't know!" Maggie repeated, for my father.

"Why was she there!?" Shane badgered my father, not letting us have a moment of peace.

"Otis put those people in the barn. Maybe he found her and put her in there before he was killed." My father explained, as we stood in front of the stairs that led to the porch and looked at Shane, Glenn, and Rick.

Shane wasn't having that explanation, "You expect me to believe that? Do I look like an idiot?!"

He was nearing rather close to my father for my liking, which provoked Rick to step in, "Shane, hey, stop it."

"I don't care what you believe!" My dad yelled at Shane.

"Everybody, just calm down," Rick tried to pacify.

"Get him off my land!"

Shane stepped too close, grasped my father's arm, "Let me tell you something -".

He didn't get to finish his sentence as I stepped in between my father and Shane, and shoved the younger man, then slapped him across his and Shane both looked shocked at my outburst.

I pointed a stern finger at Shane and hissed, "You don't get to touch him. Stay away from him and my family, Shane."

* * *

The funeral was short; we were all accounted for, except Carol. I didn't blame her. I wouldn't want to see my child buried when she could've been right next to me, when she should've been right next to me.

I knocked at the RV door, watching Carol look out the window solemnly while sitting on one side of the table fixed inside the vehicle. Everyone was still at the ceremony as I left early because I wanted to see the woman who lost everyone. She looked up, upon hearing my knock and glanced at me before looking out her window again.

"Why aren't you at the ceremony?" I asked, leaning against the counter in the RV.

"I've already explained myself to the group once, I don't want to do it again." She whispered. I nodded, understandingly before taking the seat across from her. Carol stared at me in confusion, probably wondering why I wouldn't just leave her alone.

I sighed, shakily, "I know that nothing I say will make this any easier. You might not even want to listen to what I have to say but I want you to know that you're not allowed to disappear." She suddenly looked up and glared at me, but I saw the hint of puzzlement in her eyes. "These people love you Carol; they're your family. I know, God, do I know that you want to go away but you can't. They need you."

"Peyton, they don't need me. I don't need me." She mumbled.

"You're wrong." I argued. "You think Daryl would've risked his life for someone he didn't care about, or the rest of the group? They love you. So, for them, you can't disappear." She stayed silent, not replying to my last statement. I sighed, willing the tears that were starting to form to keep at bay as I whispered, "I lost my baby too."

From my peripheral vision, I saw her snap her neck to look at me but I looked down at my hands that was clasped on the table. I shut my eyes for a moment before opening them up again, feeling the single tear slide down my cheek, as cliché as it was.

I continued, "I lost him, but I have to come back from it _every single day_. Carol, you're going to come back from this. You're strong enough to come back. You can't let this swallow you. You come back from this, just like the rest of us."

It was then that I left Carol to her own thoughts and noticed that the ceremony was over. I was just praying that she'd be okay. But I knew she would be. Grief is a fickle thing; it tricks us into making us think we're weak but we're not, we're as strong as they come. She'd be okay, a little bent and crooked but okay. She has us for that.

I walked in through the back door of my house to see Beth putting the dishes into the drying rack. Throughout the entire day, she was devastated. She refused to talk to anyone, not Maggie or me.

"Hey, sweetie, need any help?" I asked, about to walk over to her. Then, she collapsed, bringing down the entire drying rack full of plates and cups with her.

"Oh, my god, Beth!" I exclaimed, falling next to her. Her eyes were wide open, her forehead was clammy, and her breathing was uneven – she was in shock. I heard Maggie and Glenn make their way into the kitchen, asking what happened.

"She needs fluids," I said, motioning Glenn to come help carry her up to her room. "I think she's in shock." Glenn, Maggie, and I got Beth up to her room, then I ordered Glenn and Maggie to go find our dad. I was fixing up Beth's IV when they both came back into the room, ten minutes later, breathless, saying they couldn't find dad.

He was missing.

* * *

"How is she?" I suddenly heard from the doorway. I looked up to see Andrea, giving us a kind smile.

It's been over fourteen hours, and still no sign of my dad, Rick, or Glenn. Lori went out trying to look for them last night without telling anyone, which only proved to be worthless since she crashed Maggie's car and risked her life and her unborn child's life. She was fine, just minor cuts and scrapes that I fixed in a matter of minutes before getting back to my younger sister.

I was worried, for the ones who haven't come back yet, for my sister who has yet to snap out of her shock. I didn't know what to do.

Shrugging, I said, "She's doing better; her fevers gone down, she just needs a decent meal and she'll be okay."

It was silent for a few seconds before I heard the floorboards creak and the bed shift. I knew that Andrea sat down on the bed and I smiled at her, which caused her to say, "Peyton, you've been running on fumes, is there anything I can get you?"

I shook my head, holding onto my little sister's hand, "I just want my dad back. Something tells me seeing him would help Beth a lot."

"She'll be okay," Andrea whispered. "You just need to be strong for her."

I let out a little watery chuckle, "I was just reminding her about – never mind." I whispered, shaking my head and putting tiny strands of blonde hair behind Beth's ear.

"No, no," Andrea said, with a smile on her face, "I'd love to hear."

I smiled back at her before starting, "My father would die if he heard this, but it's just a little secret between me, Beth, and Maggie. My first summer back from Columbia Medical and Maggie's first summer back from college, I was 22, Beth was 12 and Maggie had just turned 18; Maggie picked me up from the airport, we dropped off our stuff, and immediately went to the stable for a ride. My whole family comes back from church and Beth picks up our stuff and starts unpacking for us."

"That's sweet," Andrea commented.

I scoffed, "Yeah, until this one here starts rifling through my backpack. She finds this little container with these pink and green candies inside." I stop to let out a small laugh. "My god, she was so freaked out by the idea of me, boys, and sex that she runs into Maggie's room, rummages through _her_ belongings and finds the _exact_ same container. So, Beth runs outside and she chucks the containers into the duck pond. Now, we come riding back and we see _all_ of this. Maggie's hysterically yelling, Beth's hysterically crying, and I was trying to maintain any peace between them."

My lips started to tremble as I gulped through the next sentence, "Shawn comes running out, thinks one of us is drowning. As soon as he figures it out, the jerk busts out laughing so loud that my horse, Jelly, rears up and gets mud on all four of us. Our dad comes out yelling, 'What the heck's going on out here?!' Then, Beth looks at me and Maggie, bats her eyelids, and says, 'We're just swimming, daddy.'" A tear trickled down my face as I stroked my baby sisters face, "In her Sunday dress, all covered in snot and mud. She's my little sister."

"Rick and Glenn will get your father back," Andrea stated, almost like a promise.

I looked back up at her and whispered, "You guys are good people."

"And you are too,"

* * *

Did I think that I was going to be repairing a blind folded man's calf muscles when the group returned? No, I did not. Apparently, there was a shootout, with three men dead and a kid, who was just barely Maggie's age, with a torn ligament from a spike attached to a gate. The second my father stepped out of the car he told me to get the surgical tools ready and that I had to stitch him up; I did my best in mending the kids' leg. But, he was going to have some serious nerve damage.

I walked into the dining room, where everyone stood or sat discussing the issue of Randall – the kid who was currently knocked out from both the pain and pain medication. My father and Rick both stood up, looking at me as I wiped my hands of any remaining blood with a rag.

"I repaired his calf muscle as best as I could," I sighed, glancing at the lot of them, "but he'll probably have nerve damage. He won't be on his feet for at least a week."

Rick nodded, "When he is, we give him a canteen, take him out to the main road, send him on his way."

"Isn't that the same as leaving him for the walkers?" Andrea questioned.

"He'll have a fighting chance," Rick stated.

Shane interjected his best friend, "Just gonna' let him go? He knows where we are."

Rick shook his head, "He was blindfolded the whole way here – not a threat."

"He's not a threat," Shane scoffed. "How many of them were there? You killed three of their men, you took one of them hostage, - but they just ain't gonna' come looking?"

"They left him for dead," Rick argued, raising his voice slightly. "No one is coming."

"We should still post a guard," T-Dog suggested, which wasn't even a bad idea.

"He was out cold, still is, will be for several more hours." I cut in.

I sneered when Shane sarcastically said, while walking out, "You know what? I'm gonna' go get him some candy and flowers." He scoffed, "Look at this folks, we back in fantasyland."

He didn't get too far when my father stopped him by saying, "You know, we haven't even dealt with what you did at my barn yet. Let me make this perfectly clear, once and for all: this is my farm. Now I wanted you gone. Rick talked me out of it, but that doesn't mean I should like it. So, do us both a favor, _keep your mouth shut_."

The entire room quieted down because of my father's confrontational words; it was entirely too quiet to the point I decided to say, "Dad, I think we should all calm down. We're not doing anything about it today, right?" I looked over at Rick.

He nodded, staring at me before looking back at Shane, "Right."

* * *

It's been seven days.

It's been a week since the arrival of Randall and his torn ligament; it's been a week, and Beth has yet to come out of what she's feeling. Beth refuses to get out of bed. She's suffering through PTSD, I knew it, because I was there. I was in her shoes; I still am and it's up to me to help her. I'm going to help her but everyone experiences trauma differently. She's fighting to not grieve.

Maggie and I were in the kitchen just chatting about miscellaneous topics while preparing lunch for Beth and the others. when she suddenly asks, "Did Rick say anything to you about Glenn when they got back from town?"

"Why would Rick say anything to me?" I wondered, raising an eyebrow as I removed the fat from the chicken I was preparing for Beth.

"Because he seems closer to you than to dad," Maggie stated. Was that true? Was I closer to Rick than my father was? I guess it made sense, but I felt closer to the entire group if I was being honest. The past week, my father and Rick have been acting as the leaders and it appears that everyone appreciated them being in charge. I even think my father has bonded with Dale; everything seemed to be okay, except the whole Randall situation but Rick and Shane were taking care of that _today_.

I shrugged, "He only said it had gotten pretty bad – large shootout, walkers busted in, they were lucky to get out alive."

"He's not the same," Maggie said, talking about Glenn. "He said he 'froze.' He blames me, said I got in his head."

"Listen, men have to do certain things – you know that. And they're either going to blame the little woman as the reason they do 'em or the reason they don't." I looked up at her and locked eye contact, smiling at her. "What happens out there, happens out there. And when they come back, that's what matters the most, okay?"

"But things were good, maybe I -"

I cut her off, shushing her, "Glenn's a big boy who makes his own choices. Do you have anything to apologize for?" Maggie shook her head. "Okay then, tell him to grow a pair of balls and man up but you know, don't use those exact words." I laughed, "That never ends well." She laughed with me as she was about to carry the tray up to Beth. I stopped her, grabbing it from her, "I'll do it; I gotta' make sure she's still not clammy."

Maggie nodded before disappearing out of the back door, about to find Glenn I guess. So, I placed Beth's plate of food and a glass of orange juice in a food tray before I made my way upstairs. The door was open; I had left it open during the morning because I had come to check in on my little sister, who was asleep at the time.

Now, she wasn't asleep.

I walked in with a large smile and said, "Hey sweets, I brought you lunch." I placed the tray on top of the bedside table while she was sitting up on her bed staring blankly in front of her, out of the window. I sighed, "Beth, you can't eat one meal a day. You need to get your strength up." She stayed mum. "Okay, how about this? You eat up all your food and we go out for a run, like we always did? What do you say? It'll do you good to be outside."

"Lori's pregnant," Beth suddenly seethed. "How could she do that?"

"Honey," I softly said, brushing hair out of her face, "she didn't have a choice."

"It's good that you're not anymore." I gaped, not expecting those words to come out of her mouth. "It couldn't really make a difference." How could she be saying that? She was the most excited of all of us when she found out.

"Beth," I stopped myself from snapping at her. "It _will_ make a difference. Lori's baby will mean something." I gulped, "Now, _eat_. I want to see the plate cleared when I come back up."

I didn't go back downstairs. Instead, I just walked into my room, plopped down in my bed, and picked up my current read: _The Stranger_ by Albert Camus. It was Heath's favorite book, I never really got around to it but I guess I did now. But I couldn't read it, I couldn't stop thinking about what Beth said. She couldn't be right. The baby – Lori's baby – will make a difference. I will make sure that he or she will make a difference in this world. I was studying to become a general surgeon, so I was qualified; I knew that this baby would make it in this world.

Instead of pondering in my thoughts anymore, I realized it's been a half hour since I last saw Beth. I decided that it was time to check up on her and make sure she's eaten at least some of what's on her plate.

I got up from my bed and walked back into Beth's room to see the food untouched. I was about to make a comment when I heard sniffles coming from her and saw that she was still in the same position I left her in, except that she was crying.

I immediately sat down in front of her and cradled her to my chest, "Hey, hey, hey, I know what you're feeling right now."

"It's just so pointless," she sobbed into my chest.

"What is?" I wondered. "This world? Mom, Shawn, and Otis dying? None of this is pointless, Beth. None of it."

"Yes, it is," Beth whimpered. "How'd you do it? After Heath and Chip, how'd you do it?"

It was then I realized that a knife was missing from the tray. I distinctly remember putting a fork and a knife for her to cut her chicken into bits since the girl refused to ever eat with her hands.

"Is that what you've decided?" I whispered, pulling her away from my chest. "Just to take that knife, put it somewhere on your body, and to end it all?"

"You can't avoid it." She quietly said. "I don't want to do it when we're forced to, when the farm and house are overrun. No one can protect us. Not Glenn, not Rick, not Shane – no one. We're alone. You, me, Patricia, Maggie, with only dad and Jimmy against a whole world of those things. I don't want to be _gutted_."

I stayed silent, throughout her speech I shifted away from her, staring at the wooden floors under us.

I didn't look at her when I said, "It's our choice; it's your choice, and I'm not going to take that choice away from you because I had the same choice. I _have_ the same choice. But then I remember how Dad would die if I was gone, Maggie… _you_. You asked me how'd I do it when I lost Heath and Chip, and the truth is, Beth, the pain doesn't go away, you just make room for it. I'm still learning how to."

She was still sobbing when I wrapped her up in my arms and took the knife from her hands, saying, "The choice is yours Beth. I'm not going to coddle you nor am I going to guilt trip you. The choice is yours. But let me tell you what stopped me, what _still_ stops me: your big blue eyes that seem to gleam whenever you're happy, dad crying with laughter at every _Seinfeld_ episode, and Maggie's impeccable ability to beat our asses at racing the horses. Mom, Annette, Heath, Chip, Shawn, Otis, – they wouldn't want me to do it. You guys bring me back every day – every single day, Beth."

She stopped crying, and took herself away from my arms, snuggling deep into her comforter. Beth turned away from me, still sniffling and I took that as my cue to leave. I stood up from her bed and stared at the knife that I took from her, before I set it down on the bedside table.

I let out a shaky breath, not really knowing if I was making the right call or not, before I said, "Your choice, only yours." I swallowed the large lump that seemed to be forming in my throat as I grabbed the tray of food that was too cold and needed to be reheated before making my way downstairs to the kitchen.

I harshly placed the tray down onto the kitchen counter, making Lori – who was cutting vegetables – jump. Tears were already trailing down my face when I heard her ask, "Honey, what's wrong?"

I pressed my palms against my forehead and wiped my tears away, "I hope I didn't just make the biggest mistake ever."

"What? What happened?" She wondered, concern lacing her voice.

Staring at the cold chicken, more streams of tears made their way down my face, as I whimpered through trembling lips, "Beth wants to kill herself."

"What?! What're you talking about!?"

"It's a choice she needs to make on her own and I trust her to make the right choice, but God, I just left a _knife_ there. I felt that because I had all the tools around me, she should too. What kind of a sister am I?!"

"What's going on?" A familiar voice broke in. Lori and I looked at the door to see Maggie and Andrea entering through the back door. I stared at Maggie, not knowing what to say before I looked over at Lori, who was staring at me. Then, she opened her mouth to say something to the other two when we all heard a loud 'clank' upstairs in Beth's room. Lori and I looked at each other before we went running up the stairs.

I rammed into Beth's bedroom door to see her wrist bleeding and she looked at and sobbed out, "I'm sorry." Maggie and I immediately wrapped the girl in our arms; I looked at the floor and saw the bloody knife, sighing in relief.

She made her choice. Beth made the right choice.

* * *

 **So, I changed around the little Andrea and Beth scene because to me it made more sense if someone that was closer to Beth told her what Andrea told her and Peyton has gone through something traumatic as well. Has anyone guessed it yet? Anyway's, you'll be glad to know I'm almost done with the next chapter! So, just give me those reviews and we'll all be happy!**

 **Thank you guys, I love you!**


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